NRLF 


Mts.HB.STOWE 


I 


OT7K    CHARLIE. 


OUR   CHARLEY, 


AND 


WHAT   TO    DO    WITH    HIM 


BY 

MRS.  H.  B.   STOWE. 


BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS,   SAMPSON  &   COMPANY. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1858,  by 

PHILLIPS,  SAMPSON  &  CO., 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


KLECTROTYPKI)    AT    THB 
BOSTON     STEEEOTYI'B     FOUNJDliV. 


PS 

oe 


CONTENTS. 


Pago 

OUR  CHARLEY, 7 

WHAT  IS  TO  BE  DONE  WITH  OUR  CHARLEY  ?  17 

THE   HAPPY  CHILD, 27 

LEAVES  FROM  THE  LIFE  OF  A  FAIRY,.     .  40 

UNCLE  JERRY'S   DREAM, 61 

TAKE   CARE   OF  THE  HOOK, 79 

FAIRY  TALES, 85 

A  TALK  ABOUT  BIRDS 94 


OUR  CHARLEY. 

WHEN  the  blaze  of  the  wood  fire  flickers 
up  and  down  in  our  snug  evening  parlor, 
there  dances  upon  the  wall  a  little  shadow 
with  a  pug  nose,  a  domestic  household 
shadow — a  busy  shadow — a  little  rest- 
less  specimen  of  perpetual  motion,  and 
the  owner  thereof  is  "  Our  Charley? 

Now,  we  should  not  write  about  him 
and  his  ways,  if  he  were  strictly  a  peculiar 
and  individual  existence  of  our  own  home 
circle ;  but  it  is  not  so.  "  Our  Charley  " 
exists  in  a  thousand,  nay,  a  million  fam 
ilies  ;  he  has  existed  in  millions  in  all 
time  back ;  his  name  is  variously  ren 
dered  in  all  the  tongues  of  the  earth  ; 
nay,  there  are  a  thousand  synonymes  for 
him  in  English  —  for  indisputably  "our 

(7) 


8  OUR    CHARLEY. 

"Willie,"  or  "our  Harry,"  or  "our  Georgie," 
belongs  to  the  same  snub-nosed,  rosy- 
cheeked,  restless  shadow-maker.  So  in 
France,  he  is  "Leonce,"  or  "Pierre,"  as 
well  as  "Charle;"  in  Italy,  he  is  "Car- 
lino"  or  "Francisco;"  in  Germany,  "Max" 
or  "Wilhelm;"  and  in  China,  he  is  little 
"  Ling-Fung,"  with  a  long  silk  tail  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  but  the  same  household 
sprite  among  them  all ;  in  short,  we  take 
"our  Charley"  in  a  generic  sense,  and  we 
mean  to  treat  of  him  as  a  miniature  epit 
ome  of  the  grown  man  —  enacting  in  a 
shadowy  ballet  by  the  fireside  all  that 
men  act  in  earnest  in  after-life.  He  is  a 
looking  glass  for  grown  people,  in  which 
they  may  see  how  certain  things  become 
them  —  in  which  they  may  sometimes 
even  see  streaks  and  gleamings  of  some 
thing  wiser  than  all  the  harsh  conflict  of 
life  teaches  them. 

"Our  Charley"  is  generally  considered 
by  the  world  as  an  idle  little  dog,  whose 
pursuits,  being'  very  inconsequent,  may 


OUR   CHARLEY.  U 

be  put  off  or  put  by  for  every  and  any 
body;  but  the  world,  as  usual,  is  very 
much  mistaken.  No  man  is  more  pressed 
with  business,  and  needs  more  prudence, 
energy,  tact,  and  courage  to  carry  out  his 
schemes,  in  face  of  all  the  opposing  cir 
cumstances  that  grown  people  constantly 
throw  in  his  way. 

Has  he  not  ships  to  build  and  to  sail? 
and  has  he  not  vast  engineerings  to 
make  ponds  and  clocks  in  every  puddle 
or  brook,  where  they  shall  lie  at  an 
chor?  Is  not  his  pocket  stuffed  with 
material  for  sails  and  cordage  ?  And 
yet,  like  a  man  of  the  world  as  he  is,  all 
this  does  not  content  him,  but  he  must 
own  railroad  stock  too.  If  he  lives  where 
a  steam  whistle  has  vibrated,  it  has  awa 
kened  an  unquiet  yearning  within  him, 
and  some  day  he  harnesses  all  the  chairs 
into  a  train,  and  makes  a  locomotive  of 
your  work  table  and  a  steam  whistle  of 
himself.  He  inspects  toy-shop  windows, 
gets  up  flirtations  with  benevolent  shop- 


10  OUR    CHARLEY. 

men ;  and  when  he  gets  his  mouth  close 
to  papa's  ear,  reveals  to  him  how  Mr.  So- 
and-so  has  a  locomotive  that  will  wind  up 
and  go  alone — so  cheap  too — can't  papa 
get  it  far  him?  And  so  papa  (all  papas 
do)  goes  soberly  down  and  buys  it,  though 
he  knows  it  will  be  broken  in  a  week. 

Then  what  raptures !  The  dear  lo 
comotive  !  the  darling  black  chimney 
sleeps  under  his  pillow  that  he  may 
feel  of  it  in  the  night,  and  be  sure 
when  he  first  wakes  that  the  joy  is  not 
evaporated.  He  bores  every  body  to 
death  with  it  as  artlessly  as  grown  people 
do  with  their  hobbies;  but  at  last  the 
ardor  runs  out.  His  darling  is  found  to 
have  faults.  He  picks  it  to  pieces  to 
make  it  work  better ;  finds  too  late  that 
he  can't  put  it  together  again ;  and  so 
he  casts  it  aside,  and  makes  a  locomotive 
out  of  a  broken  wheelbarrow  and  some 
barrel  staves. 

Do  you,  my  brother,  or  grown-up  sister, 
ever  do  any  thing  like  this  ?  Do  your 


OUR    CHARLEY.  11 

friendships  and  loves  ever  go  the  course 
of  our  Charley's  toy  ?  First,  enthusiasm ; 
second,  satiety;  third,  discontent;  then 
picking  to  pieces ;  then  dropping  and 
losing !  How  many  idols  are  in  your 
box  of  by-gone  playthings?  And  may 
it  not  be  as  well  to  suggest  to  you, 
when  you  find  flaws  in  your  next  one, 
to  inquire  before  you  pick  to  pieces, 
whether  you  can  put  together  again,  or 
whether  what  you  call  defect  is  not  a  part 
of  its  nature  ?  A  tin  locomotive  won't 
draw  a  string  of  parlor  chairs,  by  any 
possible  alteration,  but  it  may  be  very 
pretty  for  all  it  was  made  for.  Charley 
and  you  might  both  learn  something 
from  this. 

Charley's  business  career,  as  we  have 
before  intimated,  has  its  trials.  It  is 
hard  for  him  to  find  time  for  it ;  so  many 
impertinent  interruptions.  For  instance, 
there  are  four  hours  of  school,  taken  out 
of  the  best  part  of  the  day ;  four  mortal 
hours,  in  which  he  might  make  ships,  or 


12  OUR    CHARLEY. 

build  dams,  or  run  railroad  cars,  he  is 
obliged  to  leave  all  his  affairs,  often  in 
very  precarious  situations,  and  go  through 
the  useless  ceremony  of  reading  and  spell 
ing.  When  he  comes  home,  the  house 
maid  has  swept  his  foremast  into  the  fire, 
and  mamma  has  put  his  top-sails  into  the 
rag  bag,  and  all  his  affairs  are  in  a  des 
perate  situation.  Sometimes  he  gets  ter 
ribly  misanthropic ;  all  grown  people  seem 
conspiring  against  him ;  he  is  called  away 
from  his  serious  avocations  so  often,  and 
his  attention  distracted  with  such  irrele 
vant  matters,  that  he  is  indignant.  He 
is  rushing  through  the  passage  in  hot 
haste,  hands  full  of  nails,  strings,  and 
twine,  and  Mary  seizes  him  and  wants  to 
brush  his  hair ;  he  is  interrupted  in  a 
burst  of  enthusiasm,  and  told  to  wash  his 
hands  for  dinner!  or  perhaps,  a  greater 
horror  than  all,  company  is  expected,  and 
he  must  put  on  a  clean  new  suit,  just  as 
he  has  made  all  the  arrangements  for  a 
ship-launching  down  by  the  swamp.  This 


OUR    CHARLEY.  13 

dressing  and  washing  he  regards  with  un 
utterable  contempt  and  disgust ;  secretly, 
too,  he  is  sceptical  about  the  advantages 
of  going  to  school  and  learning  to  read ; 
he  believes,  to  be  sure,  when  papa  and 
mamma  tell  him  of  unknown  future  ad 
vantages  to  come  when  he  is  a  "great 
man;"  but  then,  the  present  he  is  sure 
of;  his  ships  and  sloops,  his  bits  of  string 
and  fish-hooks,  and  old  corks  and  bro 
ken  railroad-cars,  and  above  all,  his  new 
skates ;  these  are  realities.  And  he  knows 
also  what  Tom  White  and  Bill  Smith  say ; 
and  so  he  walks  by  sight  more  than  by 
faith. 

Ah,  the  child  is  father  of  the  manc. 
When  he  gets  older  he  will  have  the 
great  toys  of  which  these  are  emblems ; 
he  will  believe  in  what  he  sees  and 
touches  —  in  house,  land,  railroad  stock 
—  he  will  believe  in  these  earnestly  and 
really,  and  in  his  eternal  manhood  nomi 
nally  and  partially.  And  when  his  Fa 
ther's  messengers  meet  him,  and  face  him 


14  OUR    CHARLEY. 

about,  and  take  him  off  his  darling  pur 
suits,  and  sweep  his  big  ships  into  the  fire, 
and  crush  his  full-grown  cars,  then  the 
grown  man  will  complain  and  murmur, 
and  wonder  as  the  little  man  does  now. 
The  Father  wants  the  future,  the  child 
the  present,  all  through  life,  till  death 
makes  the  child  a  man. 

So,  though  our  Charley  has  his  infirmi 
ties,  he  is  a  little  bit  of  a  Christian  after 
all.  Like  you,  brother,  he  has  his  good 
hours,  when  he  sits  still  and  calm,  and  is 
told  of  Jesus ;  and  his  cheeks  glow,  and 
tears  come  to  his  eyes;  his  bosom  heaves; 
and  now  he  is  sure  he  is  going  to  be 
always  good;  he  is  never  going  to  be 
naughty.  He  will  stand  still  to  have  his 
hair  combed ;  he  will  come  the  first  time 
mother  speaks ;  he  will  never  speak  a 
cross  word  to  Katy ;  he  repents  of  having 
tyrannized  over  grandmamma,  and  made 
poor  mamma's  head  ache ;  and  is  quite 
sure  that  he  has  now  got  the  victory  over 
all  sin.  Like  the  Israelites  by  the  Red 


OUR    CHARLEY.  15 

Sea,  he  beholds  his  spiritual  enemies  dead 
on  the  sea  shore.  But  to-morrow,  in  one 
hour  even,  what  becomes  of  his  good  res 
olutions  ?  What  becomes  of  yours  on 
Monday  ? 

With  all  "  our  Charley's "  backslidings, 
he  may  teach  us  one  thing  which  we  have 
forgotten.  When  Jesus  w6uld  teach  his 
disciples  what  faith  ytfts,  he  took  a  child 
and  set  him  in  thef  midst  of  them.  We 
do  not  presume/mat  this  child  was  one  of 
those  excep^kmal  ones  who  have  memoirs 
a  common  average  child,  with 
its  sprites  and  tears,  its  little  naughtinesses 
ind  goodnesses,  and  its  aptness  as  an  ex 
ample  was  not  in  virtue  of  an  exceptional 
but  a  universal  quality.  If  you  want  to 
study  faith,  go  to  school  to  "your  Char 
ley."  See  his  faith  in  you.  Does  he  not 
believe  that  you  have  boundless  wealth, 
boundless  wisdom,  infinite  strength  ?  Is 
he  not  certain  of  your  love  to  that  degree 
that  he  cannot  be  repelled  from  you  ? 
Does  he  hesitate  to  question  you  on  any 


16  OUR    CHARLEY. 

thing  celestial  or  terrestrial  ?  Is  not  your 
word  enough  to  outweigh  that  of  the 
wisest  of  the  earth  ?  You  might  talk  him 
out  of  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  the  hearing 
of  his  ears,  so  boundless  is  his  faith  in  you. 
Even  checks  and  frowns  cannot  make 
him  doubt  your  love ;  and  though  some 
times,  when  you  cross  him,  the  naughty 
murmuring  spirit  arises,  yet  in  an  hour  it 
dissolves,  and  his  little  soul  flows  back, 
prattling  and  happy,  into  your  bosom. 
Be  only  to  God  as  he  is  to  you,  and  the 
fireside  shadow  shall  not  have  been  by 
your  hearth  in  vain. 


WHAT   IS   TO    BE   DONE   WITH   OUR 
CHARLEY  ? 

YES,  that  is  the  question !  The  fact  is, 
there  seems  to  be  no  place  in  heaven 
above,  or  earth  beneath,  that  is  exactly 
safe  and  suitable,  except  the  bed.  While 
he  is  asleep,  then  our  souls  have  rest ;  we 
know  where  he  is  and  what  he  is  about, 
and  sleep  is  a  gracious  state ;  but  then 
he  wakes  up  bright  and  early,  and  begins 
tooting,  pounding,  hammering,  singing, 
meddling,  asking  questions,  and,  in  short, 
overturning  the  peace  of  society  gener 
ally,  for  about  thirteen  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four. 

Every  body  wants  to  know  what  to  do 
with  him  —  every  body  is  quite  sure  that 
he  can't  stay  where  they  are.  The  cook 
can't  have  him  in  the  kitchen,  wrhere  he 
infests  the  pantry  to  get  flour  to  make 

2  (17) 


18  WHAT   IS    TO    BE   DONE 

paste  for  his  kites,  or  melts  lead  in  the 
new  saucepan.  If  he  goes  into  the  wood 
shed,  he  is  sure  to  pull  the  wood  pile  down 
upon  his  head.  If  he  be  sent  up  garret, 
you  think  for  a  while  that  you  have  set 
tled  the  problem,  till  you  find  what  a 
boundless  field  of  activity  is  opened  amid 
all  the  packages,  boxes,  bags,  barrels,  and 
cast-off  rubbish  there.  Old  letters,  news 
papers,  trunks  of  miscellaneous  contents, 
are  all  rummaged,  and  the  very  reign  of 
Chaos  and  old  Night  is  instituted.  He  sees 
endless  capabilities  in  all  things,  and  is 
always  hammering  something,  or  knock 
ing  something  apart,  or  sawing  or  plan 
ing,  or  dragging  boxes  or  barrels  in  all 
directions  to  build  cities,  or  laying  railroad 
tracks,  till  every  body's  head  aches,  quite 
down  to  the  lower  floor,  and  every  body 
declares  that  Charley  must  be  kept  out 
of  the  garret. 

Then  you  send  Charley  to  school,  and 
hope  you  are  fairly  rid  of  him,  for  a  few 
hours  at  least.  But  he  comes  home  noi- 


WITH    OUR    CHARLEY  ?  19 

sier  and  busier  than  ever,  having  learned 
of  some  twenty  other  Charleys  every  sep 
arate  resource  for  keeping  up  a  commo 
tion  that  the  superabundant  vitality  of 
each  can  originate.  He  can  dance  like 
Jim  Smith ;  he  has  learned  to  smack  his 
lips  like  Joe  Brown ;  and  Will  Briggs  has 
shown  him  how  to  mew  like  a  cat ;  and 
he  enters  the  house  with  a  new  war-whoop 
learned  from  Tom  Evans.  He  feels  large 
and  valorous ;  he  has  learned  that  he  is  a 
boy,  and  has  a  general  impression  that  he 
is  growing  immensely  strong  and  know 
ing,  and  despises  more  than  ever  the  con 
ventionalities  of  parlor-life  —  in  fact  he 
is  more  than  ever  an  interruption  in  the 
way  of  decent  folks,  who  want  to  be 
quiet. 

It  is  true,  that  if  entertaining  persons 
will  devote  themselves  to  him  exclusively, 
reading  and  telling  stories,  he  may  be 
kept  in  a  state  of  quiescence ;  but  then 
this  is  discouraging  work,  for  he  swallows 
a  story  as  a  dog  does  a  piece  of  meat, 


20  WHAT   IS   TO    BE  DONE 

and  looks  at  you  for  another,  and  another, 
without  the  slightest  consideration,  so  that 
this  resource  is  of  short  duration;  and 
then  the  old  question  comes  up,  What  is 
to  be  done  with  him  ? 

But,  after  all,  Charley  is  not  to  be 
wholly  shirked,  for  he  is  an  institution,  a 
solemn  and  awful  fad ;  and  on  the  an 
swer  of  the  question,  What  is  to  be  done 
with  him  ?  depends  a  future.  Many  a 
hard,  morose,  and  bitter  man  has  corne 
from  a  Charley  turned  off  and  neglected 
—  many  a  parental  heartache  has  come 
from  a  Charley  left  to  run  the  streets, 
that  mamma  and  sisters  might  play  on 
the  piano,  and  write  letters  in  peace.  It 
is  easy  to  get  rid  of  him  —  there  are  fifty 
ways  of  doing  that  —  he  is  a  spirit  that 
can  be  promptly  laid  for  a  season,  but  if 
not  laid  aright,  will  come  back  by  and 
by  a  strong  man  armed,  when  you  can 
not  send  him  off  at  pleasure. 

Mamma  and  sisters  had  better  pay  a 
little  tax  to  Charley  now,  than  a  terrible 


WITH    OUR    CHARLEY  ?  21 

one  by  and  by.  There  is  something  sig 
nificant  in  the  old  English  phrase,  with 
which  our  Scriptures  make  us  familiar  — 
a  MAN  child  !  A  man  child  !  —  there  you 
have  the  word  that  should  make  you 
think  more  than  twice  before  you  answer 
the  question,  What  shall  we  do  with 
Charley  ? 

For  to-day  he  is  at  your  feet  —  to-day 
you  can  make  him  laugh,  you  can  make 
him  cry,  you  can  persuade  and  coax,  and 
turn  him  to  your  pleasure ;  you  can  make 
his  eyes  fill  and  his  bosom  swell  with  re 
citals  of  good  and  noble  deeds ;  in  short, 
you  can  mould  him  if  you  will  take  the 
trouble. 

But  look  ahead  some  years,  when  that 
little  voice  shall  ring  in  deep  bass  tones  ; 
when  that  small  foot  shall  have  a  man's 
weight  and  tramp ;  when  a  rough  beard 
shall  cover  that  little  round  chin,  and  all 
the  strength  of  manhood  fill  out  that 
little  form.  Then,  you  would  give  wrorlds 
to  have  the  key  to  his  heart,  to  be  able  to 


22  WHAT   IS   TO    BE   DONE 

turn  and  guide  him  to  your  will ;  but  if 
you  lose  that  key  now  he  is  little,  you 
may  search  for  it  carefully  with  tears 
some  other  day,  and  not  find  it.  Old 
housekeepers  have^  a  proverb,  that  one 
hour  lost  in  the  morning  is  never  found 
all  day — it  has  a  significance  in  this  case. 
One  thing  is  to  be  noticed  about  Char 
ley,  that  rude,  and  busy,  and  noisy,  as  he 
inclines  to  be,  and  irksome  as  carpet  rules 
and  parlor  ways  are  to  him,  he  is  still  a 
social  little  creature,  and  wants  to  be 
where  the  rest  of  the  household  are.  A 
room  ever  so  well  adapted  for  a  play 
room  cannot  charm  him  at  the  hour  when 
the  family  is  in  reunion ;  he  hears  the 
voices  in  the  parlor,  and  his  play  room 
seems  cold  and  desolate  —  it  may  be 
warmed  by  a  furnace  and  lighted  with 
gas,  but  it  is  human  light  and  warmth  he 
shivers  for  —  he  longs  to  take  his  things 
down  and  play  by  you ;  he  yearns  to 
hear  the  talk  of  the  family,  which  he  so 
imperfectly  comprehends,  and  is  inces- 


WITH    OUR    CHARLEY  ?  23 

santly  promising  that  of  the  fifty  im 
proper  things  which  he  is  liable  to  do 
in  the  parlor,  he  will  not  commit  one  if 
you  will  let  him  stay  there. 

This  instinct  of  the  little  one  is  Na 
ture's  warning  plea  —  God's  admonition. 
0,  how  many  a  mother  who  has  neglect 
ed  it,  because  it  was  irksome  to  have  the 
child  about,  has  longed,  when  her  son 
was  a  man.  to  keep  him  by  her  side,  and 
he  would  not !  Shut  out  as  a  little  Arab 
—  constantly  told  that  he  is  noisy,  that 
he  is  awkward  and  meddlesome,  and  a 
plague  in  general  —  the  boy  has  at  last 
found  his  own  company  in  the  streets,  in 
the  highways  and  hedges  where  he  runs, 
till  the  day  comes  when  the  parents  want 
their  son,  the  sisters  their  brother ;  and 
then  they  are  scared  at  the  face  he  brings 
back  to  them,  as  he  comes  all  foul  and 
smutty  from  the  companionship  to  which 
they  have  doomed  him.  Depend  upon 
it,  mothers  and  elder  sisters,  if  it  is  too 
much  trouble  to  keep  Charley  in  your 


24  WHAT   IS   TO   BE  DONE 

society,  there  will  be  places  found  for 
him,  warmed  and  lighted  with  no  friendly 
fires,  where  he  who  "  finds  some  mischief 
still  for  idle  hands  to  do,"  will  care  for 
him  if  you  do  not.  You  may  put  out  a 
tree,  and  it  will  grow  while  you  sleep ; 
but  a  son  you  cannot.  You  must  take 
trouble  for  him,  either  a  little  now,  or  a 
good  deal  by  and  by. 

Let  him  stay  with  you  at  least  some 
portion  of  every  day.  Put  aside  your 
book  or  work  to  tell  him  a  story,  or  read 
to  him  from  some  book.  Devise  still  par 
lor  plays  for  him,  for  he  gains  nothing  if 
he  be  allowed  to  spoil  the  comfort  of  the 
whole  circle.  A  pencil  and  a  sheet  of 
paper,  and  a  few  patterns,  will  often  keep 
him  quiet  for  an  hour  by  your  side  ;  or 
in  a  corner  he  may  build  a  block  house, 
annoying  nobody ;  and  if  occasionally  he 
does  disturb  you  now,  balance  in  your 
own  mind  which  is  the  greatest  evil,  to 
be  disturbed  by  him  now,  or  when  he  is 
a  man. 


WITH    OUR    CHARLEY?  25 

Of  all  that  you  can  give  your  Charley, 
if  you  are  a  good  man  or  woman,  your 
presence  is  the  best  and  safest  thing.  God 
never  meant  him  to  do  without  you,  any 
more  than  chickens  were  meant  to  grow 
without  being  brooded. 

Then  let  him  have  some  place  in  the 
house  where  it  shall  be  no  sin  to  hammer,, 
and  pound,  and  saw,  and  make  all  the  lit- 
ter  that  his  various  schemes  of  business 
require.  Even  if  you  can  ill  afford  the 
room,  weigh  well  which  is  best,  to  spare 
him  that  safe  asylum,  or  take  the  chance 
of  one  which  he  may  find  for  himself  in 
the  street. 

Of  all  devices  for  Charley  which  we 
have  tried,  a  few  shelves,  which  he  may 
dignify  with  the  name  of  a  cabinet,  is 
one  of  the  best.  He  picks  up  shells,  and 
pebbles,  and  stones  —  all  odds  and  ends; 
nothing  comes  amiss  ;  and  if  you  give 
him  a  pair  of  scissors  and  a  little  gum, 
there  is  no  end  of  the  labels  he  will  paste 
on,  and  the  hours  that  he  may  innocently 


26  OUR    CHARLEY. 

spend  in  sorting  and  arranging.  A  bottle 
of  liquid  gum  is  an  invaluable  resource 
for  various  purposes  ;  nor  must  you  mind 
though  he  varnish  his  nose,  and  fingers, 
and  clothes,  so  that  he  do  nothing  worse. 
A  cheap  paint  box,  and  some  engravings 
to  color,  is  another ;  and  if  you  will  give 
him  some  real  paint  and  putty,  to  paint 
and  putty  his  boats  and  cars,  he  is  a 
made  man.  All  these  things  make  trou 
ble  —  to  be  sure  they  do  and  will  —  but 
Charley  is  to  make  trouble  ;  that  is  the 
nature  of  the  institution.  You  are  only 
to  choose  between  safe  and  wholesome 
trouble  and  the  trouble  that  comes  at 
last  like  a  whirlwind. 

God  bless  the  little  fellow,  and  send  us 
all  grace  to  know  what  to  do  with  him. 

The  stories  following  are  some  of  those 
with  which  one  mother  has  beguiled  the 
twilight  hours  of  one  Charley  ;  they  are 
given  in  hopes  that  other  mothers  may 
find  pleasure  in  reading  them  to  their 
Charleys. 


THE    HAPPY    CHILD. 

"PAPA,"  said  Edward  Thompson  to  his 
father,  "you  don't  know  what  beauti 
ful  things  James  Robertson  has,  of  all 
kinds." 

66  0,  yes,"  said  little  Robert,  "  when  we 
were  there  yesterday,  he  took  us  up  into 
a  little  room  that  wras  all  full  of  play 
things,  just  like  a  toy  shop." 

"He  had  little  guns,  and  two  drums, 
and  a  trumpet,  and  a  fife,"  said  Edward ; 
"  and  one  of  the  drums  was  a  real  one, 
papa,  such  as  men  play  on." 

"  And,  papa,  he  had  railroad  cars,  with 
a  little  railroad  for  them  to  go  on,  and 
steam  engine,  and  all,"  said  Robert. 

"And  a  whole  company  of  wooden 
soldiers,"  said  Edward. 

"And  all  sorts  of  blocks  to  build 
houses,"  said  Robert. 

(27) 


28  THE   HAPPY    CHILD. 

"And  besides,  papa/'  said  Edward,  "he 
has  a  real  live  pony  to  ride  on ;  such  a 
funny  little  fellow  you  never  saw ;  and 
he  has  such  a  pretty  little  riding  stick, 
and  a  splendid  saddle  and  bridle." 

"  Eeally,"  said  their  father,  "  you  make 
out  quite  a  list  of  possessions." 

"  0,  but,  papa,  we  have  not  told  you 
half;  he  has  a  beautiful  flower  garden, 
and  a  gardener  to  cultivate  it  for  him,  so 
that  he  don't  have  to  take  any  trouble 
with  it,  and  he  can  do  any  thing  with  the 
flowers  he  chooses." 

"  0,  and,  papa,  he  has  rabbits,  and  a 
beautiful  gray  squirrel,  with  a  cage  fixed 
so  nicely ;  and  the  squirrel  plays  so  many 
droll  tricks ;  and  he  has  a  parrot  that  can 
talk,  and  laugh,  and  call  his  name,  and 
say  a  great  many  funny  things." 

"  Well,"  said  their  father,  "  I  suppose 
you  think  that  James  is  a  very  happy 
boy." 

"  0,  yes,  indeed,  papa  ;  how  can  he 
help  being  happy  ?"  said  both  boys.  u  Be- 


THE  HAPPY   CHILD.  29 

sides,  his  mamma,  he  says,  lets  him  do 
very  much  as  he  likes  about  every  thing." 

66  Indeed ! "  said  their  father ;  "  and  was 
he  so  very  happy  all  day  when  you  were 
there?"  " 

« Why,  no,  not  all  day,"  said  Edward ; 
"  but  then  there  was  a  reason  for  it  •  for 
in  the  morning  we  had  planned  to  go 
out  to  the  lake  to  fish,  and  it  rained,  and 
it  made  James  feel  rather  cross  I  sup 
pose." 

"But,"  said  his  father,  "I  should  have 
thought,  by  your  account,  that  there  were 
things  enough  in  the  house  to  have 
amused  you  all." 

"  But  James  said  he  was  so  used  to  all 
those  things  that  he  did  not  want  to  play 
with  them,"  said  Robert ;  "  he  called  some 
of  the  prettiest  things  that  he  had  '  ugly 
old  things/  and  said  he  hated  the  sight 
of  them." 

"Well,"  said  their  father,  "I  suspect,  if 
the  truth  was  known,  James  is  not  so 
much  to  be  envied  after  all.  I  have  been 


30  THE   HAPPY    CHILD. 

a  week  at  a  time  at  his  father's  house, 
and  I  have  thought  that  a  more  uncom 
fortable,  unhappy-tempered  little  fellow  I 
never  saw." 

"  Well,  that  is  strange,"  said  Edward  ; 
"  I  am  sure  I  would  be  happy  if  I  was  in 
his  place." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  would  not,"  said  his 
father ;  u  for  I  believe  it  is  having  so 
many  things  that  makes  him  unhappy." 

"  Having  so  many  things,  papa  ! "  said 
both  boys. 

"  Yes,  my  sons  ;  but  I  will  explain  this 
more  to  you  some  other  time.  However, 
this  afternoon,  as  you  are  going  to  have 
a  ride  with  me.  I  think  I  will  take  you 
over  to  see  a  little  boy  who  is  a  very 
happy  boy,  as  I  think,"  said  their  father. 

HS  &  * 

"  I  wonder  if  this  can  be  the  house  ? " 
said  Edward  to  Kobert,  as  the  carriage 
stopped  before  a  very  small  brown  house. 

Their  father  got  out,  and  asked  them 
to  walk  in  with  him.  It  was  .a  very  little 


THE   HAPPY    CHILD.  31 

house,  with  only  two  rooms  in  it ;  and  in 
the  one  they  entered  they  saw  a  very 
pale,  thin  little  boy,  lying  on  a  small,  low 
bed  in  front  of  the  door.  His  face  was 
all  worn  away  by  disease,  and  his  little 
hands,  which  were  folded  on  the  outside 
of  the  bed,  were  so  thin  one  could  almost 
see  through  them.  He  had  a  few  play 
things  lying  by  him  on  the  bed,  and  on  a 
little  stand  by  him  was  a  cracked  brown 
mug,  in  which  were  some  sweet  peas,  and 
larkspurs,  and  lavender,  and  bright  yel 
low  marigolds ;  beside  which  lay  a  well- 
worn  Bible  and  hymn  book.  His  mother 
was  ironing  in  the  next  room ;  but  when 
she  saw  the  boys  and  their  father,  she 
came  forward  to  receive  them. 

"Well,  my  little  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Thomp 
son,  "  how  do  you  do  to-day  ?" 

"  0,  pretty  comfortable,"  he  said. 

"  I  have  brought  my  boys  to  see  you," 
said  Mr.  Thompson. 

The  sick  boy  smiled,  and  reached  out 
one  of  his  thin  little  hands  to  welcome 


32  THE   HAPPY    CHILD. 

them.  Edward  and  Robert  took  his  hand, 
and  then  turned  and  looked  anxiously  at 
their  father. 

66  Papa,  how  long  has  he  been  so  sick  ?" 
asked  Robert. 

"  More  than  a  year,  young  gentlemen," 
said  his  mother;  "it's  a  year  since  he 
has  been  able  to  sit  up ;  and  it 's  four 
months  since  he  has  been  able  to  be 
turned  at  all  in  bed ;  he  has  to  lie  all  the 
time,  just  as  you  see,  on  his  back." 

"  0,  what  a  long,  long  time  ! "  said  Ed 
ward  ;  "  why  can't  you  turn  him,  and  let 
him  lie  on  his  side  ?  " 

"  Because  it  hurts  him  to  lie  on  either 
side." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  him  ?"  asked 
Robert. 

"Why,  the  doctor  says  it 's  a  complaint 
of  the  bone ;  it  began  more  than  two 
years  ago,  down  in  his  foot,  and  they  had 
to  cut  the  foot  off,  in  hopes  that  that 
would  stop  it ;  but  it  didn't ;  and  then 
they  cut  off  the  leg  above  the  knee,  and 


THE   HAPPY    CHILD.  33 

that  didn't  stop  it ;  and  it 's  creeping  up, 
up,  up,  and  finally  it  will  be  the  death  of 
him.  He  suffers  dreadfully  at  nights ; 
sometimes  no  sleep  at  all  for  two  or  three 
nights." 

u  0  father,  how  dreadful ! "  said  Edward, 
pressing  close  to  his  father. 

"Papa,"  said  Robert,  looking  up  and 
whispering,  "  I  thought  we  were  going  to 
see  a  little  boy  that  wras  very  happy." 

"  Wait  a  while,"  said  Mr.  Thompson, 
66  and  you  will  see  ; "  and  then  he  turned 
to  the  sick  boy. 

"  My  little  fellow,"  said  he,  «  you  find  it 
very  tiresome  lying  here  so  long." 

"  A  little  so,"  said  the  boy,  smiling  very 
pleasantly ;  "  but  then  I  have  so  many 
things  to  make  me  comfortable." 

"What  things?" 

"  0, 1  have  a  knife,  and  I  can  whittle  a 
little  at  a  time,  and  I  have  this  little 
china  dog  that  a  lady  gave  me.  I  play 
with  that  sometimes  ;  and  then,  don't  you 
see  my  flowers  ?  " 
3 


34  THE   HAPPY    CHILD. 

The  little  boy  pointed  to  a  small  bed 
of  flowers  just  before  the  door,  where 
there  were  some  pinks,  and  some  lark 
spurs,  and  marigolds,  and  sweet  peas ;  it 
was  weeded  very  clean,  and  the  flowers 
made  it  bright  enough. 

"Mother  planted  all  those  flowers  for 
me  in *the  spring,"  he  said,  "and  she  has 
watered  and  weeded  them  every  night 
after  she  had  done  her  work ;  they  grow 
beautifully,  and  I  lie  here  every  day  and 
look  at  them.  Sometimes,  when  the  rain 
is  falling,  or  in  the  morning  when  the 
dew  is  on  them,  they  look  so  bright  and 
fresh  !  Mother  puts  some  in  the  mug  to 
stand  by  me  every  day." 

"  But  don't  you  suffer  a  great  deal  of 
pain?" 

a  Sometimes  I  do ;  but  then,  sir,  I  know 
that  God  would  not  send  it  if  it  was  not 
best  for  me,  so  I  am  willing  to  bear  it ; 
besides,  I  know  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
suffered  more  pain  for  me  than  I  suffer. 
There  are  some  beautiful  hymns  about  it 


THE   HAPPY    CHILD.  35 

in  this  book,"  he  added,  taking  up  his 
little  hymn  book ;  "  and  then  I  have  the 
Bible.  0,  I  don't  know  how  I  could  get 
along  if  it  were  not  for  that." 

"But  are  you  never  unhappy  when 
you  see  other  boys  jumping  and  playing 
about?" 

"  No,  I  am  not ;  I  know  God  knows 
what  is  best  for  me ;  besides,  my  Saviour 
comforts  me.  I  love  to  lie  here,  when  it 
is  all  still,  and  think  about  him." 

"Don't  you  hope  that  sometimes  you 
will  get  well,  and  be  able  to  go  about 
again?" 

"  No,  I  know  that  I  can't ;  I  shall  not 
live  a  great  while ;  they  all  say  so." 

"  And  don't  you  feel  afraid  to  die  ?  " 

"  0,  no ;  I  feel  as  if  I  would  be  glad  to. 
I  long  to  see  my  Saviour.  All  I  feel  sad 
about  is,  that  mother  will  be  lonesome 
when  I  am  gone." 

"Well,  my  little  boy,  if  there  is  any 
thing  that  I  can  send  you  to  make  you 
more  comfortable,  I  shall  be  glad  to." 


36  THE   HAPPY    CHILD. 

"  0,  thank  you,  sir ;  but  I  don't  know 
as  I  want  any  thing." 

"  I  wish  I  could  relieve  your  pains,  my 
little  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Thompson. 

"  God  would  do  it  in  a  minute,  if  it 
was  only  best  for  me,"  said  the  boy ;  "  and 
if  it  is  not  best,  I  had  rather  he  would 
not  do  it.  Besides,  I  think  I  am  happier 
now  than  I  used  to  be  when  I  was  well." 

"Ah!  how  can  that  be?" 

"  I  did  not  love  God  so  much  then,  and 
I  used  to  forget  to  read  the  Bible.  I  had 
not  so  much  pleasure  in  thinking  about 
heaven,"  said  the  little  boy. 

"  You  remember,"  said  Mr.  Thompson, 
"  it  says  in  the  Bible, '  Before  I  was  afflict 
ed  I  went  astray ;  but  now  have  I  kept 
thy  word.' " 

"That  is  just  it,  sir,"  said  the  boy; 
"just  the  way  I  feel.  0, 1  've  been  very 
happy  since  I  have  been  sick  here." 

Edward  and  Robert  looked  at  their  fa 
ther,  at  these  words.  Mr.  Thompson  now 
rose  to  go. 


THE   IIAPPY    CHILD.  37 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  perhaps  the  boys 
would  like  some  of  my  flowers ;  there  is 
a  beautiful  root  of  pinks  there,  and  some 
roses,"  said  the  sick  boy. 

"  0,  no/'  said  Edward,  "  we  won't  take 
them  away  from  you." 

"  0, 1  like  to  give  them  away,"  said  the 
boy,  earnestly ;  "  do  take  some." 

"  Take  some,  my  dear  children ;  it  will 
please  him,"  said  Mr.  Thompson,  in  a  low 
voice,  as  he  picked  a  few  and  gave  to 
each  of  the  boys  ;  and  then  added  aloud, 
"  We  will  keep  them  to  remember  you 
by,  my  dear  little  fellow." 

As  they  parted  with  the  little  boy,  he 
smiled  sweetly,  and  put  out  his  hand,  and 
added,  — 

"  If  you'll  come  when  my  latest  rose 
bush  is  in  blossom,  I'll  give  you  some 


roses." 


"  Papa,"  said  Edward,  "  that  poor  little 
boy  really  does  seem  to  be  happy,  and 
yet  he  is  poor,  and  sick,  and  in  pain ;  and 


38  THE   HAPPY    CHILD. 

he  has  very  few  things,  too.  It  is  strange ; 
he  is  certainly  a  great  deal  happier  than 
James  Eobertson." 

66  Well,  I  can  tell  you  the  reason/'  said 
his  father.  "  It  is  because  James  Eobert 
son  is  a  selfish  boy,  that  he  is  unhappy- 
from  morning  till  night  he  thinks  of  noth 
ing  but  how  to  please  himself.  His  fa 
ther  and  mother  have  spent  all  their  lives 
in  contriving  ways  to  please  him,  and 
have  never  required  him  to  give  up  his 
own  will  in  any  thing ;  and  now  he  is  so 
selfish  that  he  is  always  unhappy.  He 
does  not  love  God,  and  he  does  not  love 
his  parents,  nor  any  thing  else,  so  well  as 
he  loves  himself;  and  such  a  boy  will 
always  be  unhappy.  And  the  reason  that 
this  poor  little  sick  boy  is  happy,  is  be 
cause  he  has  learned  to  love  God,  his 
Saviour,  better  than  any  thing  else,  and 
to  find  all  his  pleasure  in  trying  to  do 
His  will  instead  of  his  own.  This  is  what 
makes'  him  peaceful.  If  he  did  not  love 
God,  and  love  to  give  up  his  will  to  Him, 


THE   HAPPY    CHILD.  39 

and  to  bear  ancl  suffer  whatever  He 
thought  best,  how  miserable  he  would  be 
now!" 

"  He  would  be  very  fretful,  I  suppose," 
said  Edward  ;  "  I  'm  afraid  I  should  be." 

"  Yes,"  said  his  father  ;  "  but  now,  when 
he  has  learned  to  give  up  entirely  to  the 
will  of  his  heavenly  Father,  see  how  he 
seems  to  enjoy  his  flowers,  and  his  hymn 
book,  and  his  few  little  playthings.  He 
enjoys  them  more  than  James  Robertson 
enjoys  all  his  elegant  things.  Now,  my 
dear  boys,  remember  this  :  The  way  to 
be  happy  is  to  have  a  right  hearty  and  not 
to  have  every  thing  given  to  us  that  we 
want." 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  LIFE  OF  A  FAIRY.* 

MY  DEAR  YOUNG  FRIEND  :  As  I  am  go 
ing  to  give  you  some  account  of  my  life, 
I  will  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  tell  you 
how  fairies  come  into  existence.  You 
must  know,  then,  that  if  at  midnight  a 
drop  of  dew  Mis  exactly  in  the  middle 
of  a  flower,  and  if  nothing  happens  to 
disturb  it,  it  will  absorb  the  fragrance  and 
essence  of  the  flower,  and  in  the  morning 
the  first  ray  of  light  will  change  it  into  a 
fairy. 

It  was  a  beautiful  May  morning,  when 
I  first  opened  my  eyes,  and  found  myself 
standing  in  a  sweet-scented  violet  in  a 
garden  on  Walnut  Hills,  a  village  in  the 
north  of  England. 

My  dear  sister  Lillian,  who  had  been 

*  The  two  following   stories  are  by  a  friend  of  the 

author's. 

(40) 


LEAVES   FROM   THE   LIFE   OF   A   FAIRY.     41 

appointed  by  our  queen  to  watch  for  me, 
kindly  helped  me  to  unfold  my  wings, 
and  offered  me  a  drop  of  nectar ;  after 
which  she  conducted  me  to  the  palace  of 
our  queen,  which  I  will  describe  to  you 
another  time. 

The  queen,  who  is  the  most  lovely 
and  beautiful  fairy  in  the  world,  wel 
comed  me  with  a  sweet  smile,  and  said, 
« We  receive  you  into  our  company,  my 
dear  Viola,  and  hope  you  will  be  very 
happy  in  the  society  of  your  sisters,  and 
will,  like  them,  do  much  good  wherever 
you  go.  You  cannot  be  too  thankful 
that  you  belong  to  a  race  of  benevolent 
fairies,  and  not  to  those  mischievous  ones 
who  spend  all  their  time  in  plaguing  and 
tormenting  poor  mortals." 

She  then  gave  me  a  pencil  of  sun 
beams,  a  small  vial  of  essence  of  health, 
a  tiny  air  pillow,  and  a  mantle,  which  she 
told  me  would  render  me  invisible  to  all 
except  infants  and  very  young  children. 
"And  now,  my  dear  Viola/'  said  the  queen, 


42      LEAVES    FROM   THE   LIFE    OF   A   FAIRY. 

"  I  will  leave  you  with  your  sister  fairies. 
Take  good  care  of  the  present  which  you 
have  received.  Lillie  will  tell  you  how 
to  use  them.  Once  in  seven  days  we 
meet  on  the  floating  island,  when  each 
fairy  must  give  an  account  of  what  she 
has  done  since  our  last  meeting." 

After  the  queen  left  us,  Lillie  told  me 
that  every  fairy  made  it  the  object  of  her 
life  to  do  good  to  mortals,,  and  that  many 
took  for  their  particular  charge  the  child 
of  some  poor  woman,  who,  on  account  of 
care  and  poverty,  could  not  herself  pay 
proper  attention  to  it.  I  thought  that  I 
should  like  that  very  much ;  and  as  every 
fairy  is  allowed  to  have  one  chosen  friend, 
to  be  always  with  her,  Lillie  and  I  took 
our  invisible  mantles  and  flew  away  to 
gether  in  search  of  some  poor  child  who 
might  need  our  care. 

In  a  little  white  cottage,  in  the  village 
of  R,  we  found  a  poor,  sickly  baby,  of 
four  months  old,  lying  in  its  cradle  alone. 
Its  mother  had  gone  out  to  wash,  and  was 


LEAVES    FROM    THE   LIFE    OF   A   FAIRY.     43 

obliged  to  leave  her  poor  baby  with  her 
daughter  Mary,  a  child  of  ten  years  of 
age,  who,  though  she  loved  her  little  sis 
ter  Emily,  loved  play  still  more,  and  was 
at  that  moment  sailing  chip  boats  in  a 
pool  of  water  at  some  distance  from  the 
house,  at  the  same  time  quieting  her  con 
science  by  thinking  that  perhaps  the  baby 
was  asleep,  or,  at  any  rate,  if  it  cried  very 
loud,  she  could  hear  it,  and  would  run 
home  immediately. 

The  poor  baby's  pale  face  was  wet  with 
tears  when  we  found  it,  and  it  looked  so 
helpless  and  forlorn  that  we  immediately 
adopted  it  as  our  favorite.  We  dried  its 
tears  with  our  wings,  danced  and  sang  to 
amuse  it,  dropped  fairy  sugar  in  its  mouth, 
and  did  not  leave  it  until  it  was  comfort 
ably  asleep,  when,  painting  on  its  eyelids 
beautiful  pictures,  which  we  knew  would 
insure  pleasant  dreams,  we  left  it  for  a 
short  time,  and  flew  away  to  carry  food 
to  a  poor  little  bird  which  had  been  shot 
in  the  wing  by  a  cruel  boy. 


44      LEAVES   FROM    THE    LIFE    OF   A   FAIRY. 

When  Lillie  and  I  returned,  we  found 
little  Emily  just  waking  up,  and  her  moth 
er,  who  had  returned  home,  was  preparing 
some  milk  for  her,  into  which  I  dropped 
some  of  my  essence,  which  not  only  im 
proved  the  taste  of  the  milk,  but  also 
added  very  much  to  its  strengthening 
qualities ;  so  that  when  Emily  had  taken 
it  twice  a  day  for  two  weeks,  she  began 
to  grow  quite  fat  and  rosy,  to  the  surprise 
of  the  neighbors,  who  had  often  prophe 
sied  that  "  Mrs.  W.  would  never  raise  that 
child." 

Mrs.  W.  herself  wondered  what  made 
the  child's  eyes  look  so  very  bright  some 
times,  and  what  made  her  so  much  qui 
eter  and  happier  than  she  used  to  be. 
"  Why,  bless  the  child,"  said  she,  "  she  will 
lie  awake  in  the  cradle  and  talk  to  her 
self  an  hour  at  a  time,  and  it  'pears  Uke 
she  was  looking  at  something,  I  don't 
know  what ;  and  then  she  will  commence 
singing  like,  in  her  baby  fashion,  and  fairly 
get  herself  to  sleep,  without  being  rocked 


LEAVES    FROM   THE   LIFE    OF   A   FAIRY.      45 

a  bit ;  she  is  getting  a  great  fashion,  too, 
of  looking  at  her  hands,  and  gooing  and 
gaing  at  them,  and  she  is  getting  so 
strong  that  she  can  set  up  all  alone  by 
herself;  and  Mary  says  that  sometimes, 
when  I  am  gone  la  tor  than  usual,  she  will 
begin  to  fret  a  little,  and  then,  all  at  once, 
she  will  begin  sucking  her  thumb,  and  be 
as  quiet  as  a  lamb  until  I  come  home ; 
and  now,  this  minute,  do  see  how  she  is 
smiling  in  her  sleep.  I  used  to  think  that 
was  a  sign  of  colic  ;  but  now " 

"And  is  it  the  colic  you  mane?"  said 
a  kind-hearted  Irish  woman  ;  u  and  sure 
yourself  may  be  asy  about  that  same. 
Never  a  bit  of  colic  is  it,  but  the  good 
angels  are  whispering  to  the  swate  darlint. 
An'  sure  it's  the  troth  that  I  say,  for  my 
self  heard  the  good  praste  say  that  same." 

They  all  smiled  at  what  they  considered 
Irish  superstition,  and  another  neighbor 
said,  — 

"Well,  Mrs.  W.,  I  am  very  glad  the 
child  is  doing  so  well.  I  expect  a  turn  of 


46      LEAVES    FROM    THE  LIFE    OF   A    FAIRY. 

good  luck  for  you  ;  for  I  said  to  my  Mary 
on  Monday,  —  no,  Tuesday  — no,  Monday, 
it  was,  —  the  day  that  my  fork  fell  and 
stuck  straight  up  in  the  floor;  said  I,  'Now, 
Mary,  Mrs.  W.  will  have  a  turn  of  good 
luck,  I  know,  for  there  she  goes  with  her 
apron  wrong  side  out,  and  it  is  after 
twelve  o'clock,  and  last  night  she  saw  the 
moon  over  her  right  shoulder,  and,  best 
of  all,  my  old  man  showed  it  to  her,  and 
that  is  a  sure  sign  of  good  luck.' " 

Poor,  ignorant  mortals,  they  never  once 
dreamed  who  it  was  that  played  with 
the  child,  and  covered  her  little  fingers 
with  fairy  rings,  set  with  brilliants,  and 
painted  pictures  of  gay  birds  and  flowers 
on  her  hands,  and  covered  her  thumb 
with  the  purest  fairy  sugar,  and  played  a 
thousand  tricks  to  amuse  her ;  but  I  hear 
the  silver  bells  of  our  dear  queen,  and 
must  stop  writing  for  the  present  and 
hasten  to  her. 

Little  Emily  continued  to  grow  and 
thrive  under  our  care,  so  that  when  she 


LEAVES   FROM    THE   LIFE    OF   A   FAIRY.     47 

was  a  year  old,  she  was  as  lovely  a  child 
as  I  ever  saw.  Her  eyes  were  bright  and 
blue  as  my  native  flower,  and  her  hair, 
which  Lillie  and  I  curled  every  day  when 
she  was  asleep,  hung  in  shining  ringlets 
around  her  sweet  face  and  neck.  We 
taught  her  to  keep  herself  neat  and  clean 
by  hiding  ourselves  and  taking  away  her 
rings  and  pictures  whenever  she  soiled 
her  hands  or  dress,  and  the  moment  she 
was  washed  we  appeared  again ;  so  that 
she  very  soon  learned  to  be  neat  and 
careful,  and  whenever  she  got  a  spot  on 
her  dress,  or  her  little  white  hands,  she 
would  hold  them  up  and  say,  "Wass? 
wass,"  so  earnestly,  that  her  mother  or 
sister  would  always  attend  to  .her.  She 
was  called  the  little  lady,  on  account  of 
her  neatness,  and  was  very  much  loved 
and  admired.  About  this  time  she  began 
to  walk  alone ;  and  now  Lillie  and  I  were 
busier  than  ever.  We  kept  our  little  air 
pillow  constantly  with  us,  and  whenever 
she  fell  we  threw  it  between  her  head 


LEAVES   FROM   THE   LIFE    OF   A   FAIRY.      49 

but  we  kept  our  little  pet  well  supplied. 
Mary  tied  up  a  little  bundle  of  rags,  and 
Lillie  painted  it,  and  made  it  appear  to 
little  Emily  as  beautiful  as  the  most  costly 
wax  doll.  If  she  got  a  little  chip  with  a 
twine  string  tied  to  it,  we  made  it  look 
like  a  gayly  painted  carriage.  We  col 
ored  and  embellished  every  thing  that 
she  had  to  play  with,  and  made  her  baby 
life  alnlost  one  continued  stream  of  sun 
shine.  But  I  do  not  wish  you  to  think 
that  we  spent  all  our  time  in  taking  care 
of  one  child  ;  we  played  with  the  hum 
ming  birds  and  butterflies,  danced  by 
moonlight  with  our  sister  fairies,  and  did 
many  good  offices  for  people,  beasts,  birds, 
and  insects.  One  hot  day  in  August,  we 
found  a  poor,  tired  traveller  in  the  dusty 
road.  We  sang  like  a  thrush,  and  thus 
drew  his  attention  to  a  little  grove  near 
by,  where  was  a  mossy  bank  and  a  spring 
of  the  clearest  and  coolest  of  water.  As 
he  drank  of  the  water,  we  dropped  into 
his  cup  a  little  of  our  essence,  and  fanned 
4 


50      LEAVES   FROM  THE   LIFE   OF  A   FAIRY. 

him  with  our  wings.  "  0,  what  a  good 
little  breeze  ! "  said  he,  as  he  threw  him 
self  down  on  the  bank  of  moss,  and  was 
soon  in  a  refreshing  sleep.  We  then  paint 
ed  on  his  eyelids  an  exact  representation 
of  our  queen's  palace  and  garden,  and 
left  him  to  enjoy  his  dream. 

The  next  morning  we  were  surprised 
and  delighted,  on  visiting  Emily,  to  find 
that  our  traveller  was  Mrs.  W.'s  only  son, 
wrho  had  just  got  through  his  apprentice 
ship  in  a  distant  city,  and  had  come  home 
to  work  for  and  comfort  his  mother  and 
little  sisters.  He  was  sitting  with  Emily 
on  his  knee,  looking  with  pride  and  affec 
tion  at  her  bright  eyes  and  beautiful 
curls,  and  telling  a  very  curious  dream 
to  his  mother  and  Mary,  who  were  listen 
ing  with  great  attention.  He  was  just  fin 
ishing  his  dream ;  but  as  I  know  it  a  little 
better  than  he  did,  I  will  tell  it  to  you, 
and  you  will  then  know  how  the  beauti 
ful  Fairy  Queen  lives. 


LEAVES   FROM   TUB  LIFE  OF  A   FAIRY.      51 

THE    l".:i   \M. 

I  was  lying  down  m  rest  on  a  green 

..  \\hen  Middenly  i':  nd  heneath 

me  seemed  \\ay.  and    1    fell  down, 

that   m^N    head  LJ-IVNN   diy/v.  and 
I      ive  up  all  hope;   \shen  Middenlv  1  t'onnd 
jn\  Self  in    a    1'rautifid    gTOl  <'-       Thr  i 
and    grass  AM  iv  el'  tin-    inoM   K.\dv  gl 
1    •   ,  Bt   BaW,  :md    inanv  of  thr    tr66l  IfeW 

ii  fruit  and  llov, 

hrilliant    colors.       l>inl>   oi'    -ay    pluii 
lilli-d    tin-    ;  ami    tin* 

fame    <>f    the    flowers    \\as    drli-htfnl. 

1  wandered  about  until  1  came  to  a  -mall 

lak.-  :y  Mai  ;    the    hottoin    of 

thr  lake  was  covered  uith  hi-amiful  -in»iis 

and  Lfl    Mono  ;    thoil.-allds   of  1. 

j.i-arl    and    lined  \\  ith 

leavefl    were    sailing    ahout.    and    in    each 
hoat  was  a  liijht   little  taiiy  . 

the  middle  of  the  lake   was  a  tl. 
idand    \vhi.  tinl    t"     he 

me.   and    grew   more   and     i.. 


52       LEAVES   FROM  THE   LIFE   OF   A   FAIRY. 

lovely  the  more  I  examined  it.  It  seemed 
to  be  composed  entirely  of  moss  and 
flowers,  and  shaded  by  the  most  delicate 
little  trees,  in  exact  imitation  of  the  larger 
trees  which  I  described.  The  smallest  of 
humming  birds  and  butterflies  kept  the 
trees  and  flowers  in  continual  motion. 
Exactly  in  the  centre  of  this  island  stood 
a  small  circular  palace ;  it  was  white  as 
the  purest  alabaster,  delicate  as  the  rose 
leaf,  and  so  transparent  that  I  could  see 
distinctly  all  that  was  going  on  inside. 
The  roof  of  the  palace  was  in  the  form  of 
an  inverted  lily,  the  petals  of  which  were 
bordered  with  rubies  and  emeralds,  and  all 
kinds  of  precious  stones.  The  roof  was 
supported  by  pillars  of  pearl,  around  which 
were  twined  never-fading  roses,  about  as 
large  as  a  small  forget-me-not,  the  tiny 
green  vines  and  rich  crimson  roses  con 
trasting  beautifully  with  the  snowy  white 
ness  of  the  palace.  The  queen  was  the 
most  elegant  little  creature  that  you 
can  imagine ;  every  look,  word,  and  ac- 


LEAVES  FROM   THE  LIFE   OF   A  FAIRY.      53 

tion  was  perfect  grace  and  beauty.  She 
seemed  to  be  very  busy  with,  her  attend 
ants  in  arranging  and  weaving  a  number 
of  little  crowns  and  garlands,  by  which  I 
supposed  they  were  preparing  for  some 
festival.  While  I  stood  wondering  and 
admiring,  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  little 
silver  bell,  and  immediately  every  little 
boat  was  brought  up  to  the  island,  and  the 
fairies  all  gathered  around  their  queen, 
(who  was  seated  on  a  throne  in  front  of 
her  palace,)  and  each  fairy  in  turn  told 
where  she  had  been  and  what  she  had 
done  since  their  last  meeting. 

The  queen  then  made  a  speech,  in 
which  she  told  them  how  happy  she  was 
to  find  that  they  had  been  so  diligent 
and  kind,  so  self-denying,  and  so  careful 
of  the  happiness  of  others.  "  Continue, 
my  beloved  ones,"  she  said,  "  to  be  thus 
pure  and  good ;  mingle  with  mortals,  and 
do  all  you  can  for  them,  but  keep  your 
selves  free  from  their  sins  and  follies ;  for 
if  one  shade  of  envy,  jealousy,  or  any  evil 


54      LEAVES   FROM   THE   LIFE   OF   A   FAIRY. 

passion,  should  come  into  our  domain,  it 
would  destroy  our  happiness  forever." 
She  then  gave  to  each  of  them  a  little 
crown  or  garland  of  myrtle  and  rose 
buds,  and  they  were  preparing  to  dance, 
when,  forgetting  myself,  I  made  a  slight 
movement,  and  immediately  the  island, 
palace,  fairies,  all  were  gone,  and  I  awoke 
and  found  myself  three  miles  from  home, 
and  the  sun  going  down.  I  felt  quite 
rested  and  refreshed,  and  shall  always 
remember  my  pleasant  dream. 

Mrs.  W.  was  much  surprised  and  pleased 
with  her  son's  dream,  and  said  that  it 
sounded  almost  like  reading ;  that  he  always 
was  a  lucky  boy,  and  she  had  no  doubt 
but  his  dream  was  a  good  one ;  that 
she  should  not  wonder  if  he  found  work 
and  good  wages  that  very  day,  for  she 
always  heard  that  it  was  a  good  sign  to 
dream  about  fairies.  He  did  very  soon 
find  work,  for  he  was  well  known  to  be 
an  honest  and  diligent  young  man,  and 


LEAVES   FROM  THE   LIFE    OF   A    FAIRY.       55 


things  soon  began  to  be  more  pleasant 
and  comfortable  at  the  cottage.  The  lit 
tle  garden  was  planted  and  kept  in  order, 
a  cow  bought,  and  Mrs.  W.  only  went  out 
to  wash  once  a  week.  Mary  was  sent  to 
school,  and  new  clothes  were  provided 
for  the  whole  family.  When  Emily  was 
about  three  years  of  age,  she  one  day 
found  two  or  three  leaves  of  Mary's  old 
Primer,  and  I  painted  the  letters,  and 
made  them  look  so  pretty  that  she  was 
quite  delighted  with  them,  and  began  at 
once  to  learn  their  names.  Lillie  and  I 
had  learned  to  read  English  by  attending 
little  children  at  school,  and  we  found  no 
difficulty  in  teaching  Emily.  As  she  grew 
older  and  more  earthly,  we  began  to  fade 
from  her  sight,  but  we  still  with  our  pen 
cils  color  and  brighten  all  that  she  came 
in  contact  with,  and  put  kind  and  pleasant 
thoughts  into  her  mind.  We  taught  her 
to  be  obedient  and  diligent,  to  be  kind  to 
animals,  and  whenever  she  did  a  good 
action  we  felt  repaid  for  all  our  care  of 


56      LEAVES   FROM    THE   LIFE   OF   A   FAIRY. 

her.  When  she  was  four  years  of  age, 
her  brother  was  very  much  surprised  one 
day  to  find  her  reading  a  book  which  he 
had  just  left,  and  still  more  surprised  to 
find  that  nobody  knew  how  she  had 
learned  to  read.  Mary  said  she  remem 
bered  that,  some  time  ago,  Emmy  got 
hold  of  her  old  Primer,  and  asked  her 
the  names  of  some  of  the  letters,  but  she 
never  thought  any  more  about  it.  Mrs. 
W.  said  she  had  seen  the  child  often  play 
ing  with  a  book,  as  she  supposed,  but 
never  thought  of  her  learning  to  read  ; 
and  when  Emily  was  asked  who  taught 
her,  she  raised  her  dark  eyes  with  a  look 
of  wonder  at  being  asked  such  a  ques 
tion,  and  said,  "  Pretty  book." 

Things  went  on  very  quietly  in  the  vil 
lage  until  Emily  was  six  years  of  age, 
when  some  ladies  from  London,  who  were 
spending  the  summer  in  the  country,  es 
tablished  a  Sunday  school.  Mary  and 
Emily  both  attended,  and  here  they 


LEAVES   FROM   THE   LIEE    OF   A   FAIRY.       57 

learned  better  things  than  the  best  of 
fairies  could  teach  them. 

They  heard  and  read  about  the  great 
Creator  and  Saviour  of  the  human  race, 
and  of  the  home  which  he  has  prepared 
for  all  who  love  him,  compared  with 
which  Fairyland  is  as  a  spot  on  the  sun. 

Emily,  who  was  still  the  pet  and  the 
pride  of  the  family,  would  sit  whole 
evenings  between  her  mother  and  brother 
George,  repeating  hymns  and  verses  which 
her  teacher  had  taught  her,  or  reading  to 
them  in  her  little  Testament,  until  the 
things  of  this  world  seemed  to  fade  from 
their  sight,  and  heaven  and  eternity 
alone  seemed  worth  living  for.  They 
passed  two  happy  years  in  this  manner, 
until  Emily  wras  eight  years  old,  when, 
without  any  visible  cause,  she  began  to 
fade  and  waste  away.  Every  month  she 
grew  weaker,  although  George  got  the 
best  physician  that  could  be  found  to 
attend  upon  her,  and  every  thing  that 
could  be  thought  of  was  done  for  her, 


58      LEAVES   FROM   THE   LIFE    OF   A  FAIRY. 

but  all  in  vain.  "  I  am  going  home,  dear 
mother/'  she  said ;  "  I  am  going  to  be  with 
the  dear  Saviour,  who  loves  little  children 
so  much,  and  I  shall  then  be  a  good  child, 
mother  —  always  good  —  and  never  even 
think  a  wrong  thought.  But  I  shall  not 
forget  you ;  I  shall  always  love  you,  and 
Mary,  and  brother  George,  and  soon  you 
will  all  come,  and  we  will  be  happy  to 
gether. 

It  was  beautiful  now  to  see  the  kind 
ness  and  affection  which  this  poor  family 
showed  to  each  other  in  their  affliction ; 
how  George,  after  working  hard  all  day, 
would  go  a  mile  out  of  his  way  to  get  an 
orange  for  his  little  sister ;  how  tenderly 
he  would  take  her  in  his  arms,  and  carry 
her  about  the  room  to  relieve  the  weari 
ness  and  nervousness  caused  by  her  lying 
so  long  on  her  little  bed;  how  quietly 
and  thoughtfully  the  once  careless  Mary 
would  do  and  remember  all  the  little 
things  that  her  mother,  in  her  anxiety 
and  grief,  had  forgotten ;  and,  in  short, 


LEAVES   FROM   THE  LIFE   OF  A   FAIRY.      59 

how  they  all  seemed  to  forget  them 
selves,  and  live  only  to  comfort  and  help 
each  other. 

Emily  died  as  she  had  lived,  gently  and 
happily.  The  sun  was  just  setting ;  her 
Sabbath  school  teacher,  with  her  friends 
standing  round  her  bed,  longing  to  do 
something,  and  yet  unable  to  help  or 
relieve  her. 

«  Emily,  my  darling,"  said  her  mother, 
"  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  dear  mother,"  whispered  the 
dying  child  ;  "  the  Lord  is  my  Shepherd, 
I  shall  not  want.  Yea,  though  I  walk 
through  the  valley " 

She  could  say  no  more  ;  her  eyes  grew 
brighter  and  brighter,  and  with  a  smile 
which  made  her  face  look  like  the  face  of 
an  angel,  she  left  us,  and  was  with  the 
Saviour  whom  she  loved. 

0  for  a  human  soul !  To  feel  for  one 
hour  such  love  as  lighted  up  that  pale 
face,  would  outweigh  all  the  pleasures  of 
Fairyland.  Emily  will  live  forever  and 


60      LEAVES    FROM   THE  LIFE   OF   A   FAIRY. 

ever,  pure  and  holy.  I  shall  live  and  be 
happy,  perhaps  for  thousands  of  years, 
and  then  sleep  never  to  wake  again. 
My  happiness  and  usefulness  will  come 
to  an  end.  Hers,  never. 

Lillian  and  I  have  taken  care  of  a  great 
many  little  children,  but  we  never  found 
one  that  we  loved  so  well  as  little  Emily. 
We  took  seeds  from  our  favorite  flowers, 
and  planted  them  on  her  grave,  and  the 
next  summer  her  friends  were  pleased 
and  surprised  to  find  violets  and  lilies  of 
the  valley  in  full  bloom ;  and  even  now, 
Mary,  who  is  a  good  and  respectable 
woman,  and  has  a  home  and  a  little 
Emily  of  her  own,  has  just  returned  from 
weeding  and  watering  the  fairy  flowers. 


UNCLE    JERRY'S   DREAM  ABOUT  THE 
BROWNIES. 

I  HAD  just  settled  myself  in  my  easy 
chair,  to  take  my  usual  nap  after  dinner, 
when  the  door  was  suddenly  opened,  and 
my  little  son  and  daughter  entered,  all 
ready  for  school. 

"Papa,"  said  little  Tom,  "won't  you 
please  to  give  me  a  cent  to  buy  a  slate 
pencil?" 

"Another  slate  pencil!  Why,  Tom, 
you'll  ruin  me.  How  many  have  you 
had  this  week  ?  " 

"  Only  two,  sir,  and  this  is  Thursday. 
My  last  I  kept  two  days,  and  I  should 
have  had  it  yet,  only  yesterday  I  just 
laid  it  down  a  minute  while  I  went  out 
in  recess  time,  and  when  I  came  in  I 
couldn't  find  it  any  where.  Susy  staid 
after  school,  and  helped  me  look  for  it ; 

(61) 


62  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

but  I  think  somebody  must  have  taken 
it ;  and  this  morning  I  had  to  borrow  a 
pencil  and  do  my  sum  in  recess.  I  didn't 
get  any  time  to  play  at  all." 

"  Good  for  you,  you  careless  rogue.  If 
I  was  your  teacher,  I'd  make  you  lose 
your  recess  every  time  you  lost  your 
pencil." 

"  Then  I'm  glad  you  are  not  my 
teacher,"  said  he,  with  a  sly  look,  as  he 
pocketed  the  cent,  and  slipped  fairly  out 
of  my  reach.  "  Papa,  you  wouldn't  real 
ly,  would  you?"  said  little  Susan,  who 
always  took  every  thing  in  earnest. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,  pet,"  said  I  « I 
guess  I  shouldn't  be  a  very  cruel  teacher." 

Susan  seemed  satisfied,  and  followed 
her  brother ;  and  I,  wondering  what  in 
the  world  became  of  slate  pencils,  pins, 
and  needles,  very  soon  found  myself  in 
the  land  of  dreams.  I  seemed  to  be 
wandering  about  in  a  thick  forest  of  pine 
trees ;  the  sky  was  covered  with  clouds, 
the  wind  sang  mournfully  among  the 


FINVILLE. 


ABOUT   THE  BROWNIES.  63 

branches,  and  not  a  path  or  the  slightest 
trace  of  human  footsteps  could  be  seen. 

Suddenly  I  came  to  an  open  place,  and 
there,  in  the  space  of  twelve  feet  square, 
stood  a  whole  village.  Each  little  house 
was  about  two  or  three  inches  square, 
built  in  the  form  of  a  log  cabin  of  slate 
pencils,  the  spaces  between  the  pencils 
being  filled  with  pieces  of  paper,  one  of 
which  (having  by  some  accident  got 
loose)  looked  wonderfully  like  one  of  the 
missing  leaves  from  Tom's  spelling  book. 
The  chimneys  were  little  thimbles  with 
the  ends  knocked  out ;  the  fences  were 
all  closely  built  with  needles  and  pins, 
and  over  every  little  gateway,  towering 
above  the  top  of  the  house,  stood, 
stretched  wide  open,  a  pair  of  scissors, 
I  stood  for  some  time  in  silent  astonish 
ment.  What  in  the  world,  thought  I,  is 
the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  Why,  there  are 
wife's  scissors  that  I  borrowed  the  other 
day  to  cut  my  hair  with ;  and  there  is 
Susy's  little  forget-me-not  thimble,  that 


64  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

she  was  so  proud  of,  and  there  is —  I 
was  interrupted  in  my  observations  by  a 
low,  disagreeable,  croaking  sound,  which 
seemed  to  proceed  from  behind  a  large 
pine  tree  near  which  I  stood  •  and  look 
ing  carefully  round,  I  saw  two  such 
hateful,  spiteful-looking  creatures,  that  I 
thought  their  faces  must  ache,  they  were 
so  very  ugly.  They  were  about  an  inch 
in  height,  and  had  each  of  them  a  little 
bag  about  twice  as  large  as  themselves, 
which  appeared  to  be  quite  full  of  one 
thing  and  another,  and  yet  they  seemed 
to  lift  them  about  with  perfect  ease. 
They  held  in  their  hands  a  girdle  which 
made  them  invisible  whenever  they  wore 
it.  I  wondered  that  they  didn't  wear  it 
all  the  time. 

tf  Well,  Wormwood,"  said  the  uglier  of 
the  two,  "  what  have  you  been  about 
since  I  saw  you  last?  Have  you  had 
much  fun  ?  " 

«  Why,  Nightshade,  I  can't  say  that  I 
have  had  a  very  jolly  time.  You  see,  I'm 


ABOUT   THE   BROWNIES.  65 

not  much  used  to  the  ways  of  the  world 
yet.  I've  only  been  here  two  weeks; 
and  then  those  floating  islanders,  they  do 
bother  a  fellow  terribly,  with  their  bal 
sam,  and  their  pencils,  and  all  their  hypo 
critical  nonsense  about  being  kind,  and 
good,  and  honest,  and  true,  and  all  that 
stuff  that  they  are  forever  whispering  to 
one  child  or  another.  I  wish  Rosa,  and 
Lillian,  and  Viola,  and  the  whole  set  of 
them  —  island  and  all  —  were  at  the  bot 
tom  of  the  Red  Sea ;  then  one  might  have 
a  chance  to  do  something.  The  other  day, 
I  found  a  little  fellow  looking  wistfully  at 
a  basket  of  ripe  apples,  which  stood  at 
the  door  of  a  store.  '  Take  one,'  said  I ; 
( take  it  quick ;  the  man  is  busy,  and 
won't  see  you.  Pshaw,  don't  be  so  par 
ticular  ;  it's  only  an  apple.'  He  reached 
forward,  and  had  one  in  his  hand,  when, 
as  ill  luck  would  have  it,  Rosa,  the  fairy, 
came  flying  along,  and  just  sung  in  his 
ear  a  part  of  a  tune  which  his  mother 
had  taught  him,  and  he  dropped  the 


66  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

apple  as  quick  as  he  would  a  red-hot 
coal,  and  away  he  ran.  I  tell  you,  Night 
shade,  it's  hard  work  to  make  a  boy 
steal  when  he  is  thinking  of  his  mother. 
"Well,  I  didn't  like  to  be  cheated  so,  and 
I  followed  him  home,  and  spent  several 
days  in  the  family;  but  it  was  in  fact 
time  wasted ;  for,  although  there  were 
seven  children,  the  mother  was  so  watch 
ful,  and  the  children  so  particular  about 
saying  their  prayers,  and  studying  their 
Bible  lessons,  and  singing  their  hymns, 
that  I  could  get  no  power  over  them  at 
all.  One  day,  I  found  the  youngest  child 
alone,  and  I  thought  I  would  make  him 
swear.  Well,  I  whispered  some  wrords 
in  his  ear,  very  softly,  but  so  distinctly 
that  he  didn't  know  them  from  his  own 
thoughts.  '  Now/  said  I,  '  say  them  ;  it 
will  make  you  feel  like  a  man,  and  it  is 
just  as  bad  to  think  wicked  words  as 
to  say  them,  and  you  know  you  have 
thought  them  already/" 


ABOUT   THE   BROWNIES.  67 

"  And  did  he  say  them  ?  "  asked  Night 
shade,  with  a  malicious  grin. 

"  Say  them  !  no  —  he  ran  crying  to  his 
mother,  and  said, '  0  ma,  I  am  so  naughty, 
I  have  been  thinking  swear >  like  what  that 
man  said  to  his  horses  this  morning.  Are 
you  afraid  that  I  shall  grow  up  like  him, 
ma  ? '  She  took  the  little  fellow  on  her 
lap,  and  I  cleared  out ;  for  I  knew  there 
was  no  chance  for  me  that  day. 

"  Next  morning,  I  was  delighted  to  find 
one  of  the  little  girls  climbing  up  to  get 
something  off  the  mantel-piece  —  a  thing 
that  she  had  been  forbidden  to  do.  I 
saw  what  she  did  not  —  that  the  sleeve  of 
her  apron  brushed  against  one  of  the 
flowers  in  her  mother's  china  vase,  and  I 
suddenly  flew  right  in  her  face  in  the 
form  of  a  dragon-fly,  which  frightened 
her,  so  that  she  started  and  knocked 
down  the  vase,  which  was  broken  into  a 
dozen  pieces.  I  was  delighted,  of  course. 
6  Now,'  said  I, '  you  have  got  yourself  into 
trouble  ;  that  is  your  mother's  favorite 


68  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

vase  ;  she  will  be  very  much  displeased, 
and  will  lose  all  confidence  in  you,  be 
cause  you  know  you  promised  never  to 
try  to  get  any  thing  off  the  mantel-piece  ; 
and  now  you  have  not  only  broken  your 
mother's  favorite  vase,  but  what  is  worse, 
you  have  broken  your  word.  Your  father, 
too,  will  know  it,  and  all  the  family  •  and 
this  afternoon,  when  they  go  to  ride,  you 
will  be  left  at  home.  The  best  thing  that 
you  can  do  now  is  to  go  quietly  out  of 
the  room,  shut  the  door  softly,  and  say 
nothing  —  you  will  never  be  suspected. 
If  you  are  asked  about  it,  you  can  say 
you  don't  know  who  broke  it.' 

"'  Always  tell  the  truth,'  said  Lillian, 
the  fairy ;  '  remember  what  your  teacher 
said  about  that  last  Sabbath.  You  have 
done  wrong,  but  your  mother  is  your 
best  friend  ;  you  had  better  go  tell  her 
about  it  before  it  is  too  late.' " 

"And  did  she  go?" 

"  Yes,  the  little  goose  picked  up  the 
pieces,  and  went  right  to  her  mother  and 


ABOUT   THE   BROWNIES.  69 

told  her  all  about  it ;  and  I  was  so  mad 
that  I  just  gathered  up  a  few  pins  and 
pencils  and  came  away." 

"  Ha,  ha !  but  you  are  green/'  said 
Nightshade  ;  "  to  think  of  your  spending 
your  time  in  such  a  house  as  that.  Now, 
let  me  give  you  a  little  piece  of  advice  : 
Next  time,  go  into  a  school,  where  one 
poor,  bewildered  teacher  has  forty  or  fifty 
wild,  careless  boys  and  girls  to  attend  to. 
There  you  can  play  your  tricks  to  any 
extent.  You  will  always  find  a  few 
bright  ones,  who  are  up  to  any  thing  that 
you  can  put  into  their  heads,  and  not  at 
all  troubled  with  conscience.  They  will 
lead  the  rest,  and  there  is  no  end  to  the 
mischief  that  you  can  make  them  do. 
As  to  lying,  why,  that's  nothing  to  some 
of  them ;  and  when  a  boy  gets  to  be  an 
expert  liar,  it  is  very  easy  to  make  him 
steal ;  I've  got  more  such  fellows  into  jail 
than  you  can  count  in  a  day ;  and  as  to 
pencils  and  paper,  I  know  of  a  whole 
town,  six  times  as  big  as  Pinville  here, 


70  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

that  was  built  entirely  from  one  district 
school.  Or,  if  you  are  fond  of  private 
life,  go  into  a  family  where  the  children 
all  forget  to  say  their  prayers,  and  the 
mother  forgets  to  attend  to  it;  where 
they  consider  the  Bible  a  very  dull  old 
book,  and  the  Sabbath  the  most  tedious 
day  in  the  week ;  or  where  the  father 
thinks  of  nothing  but  how  he  can  make 
the  most  money,  and  the  mother  thinks 
only  how  she  can  spend  it  in  the  most 
fashionable  and  genteel  manner;  where 
the  children  are  all  taught  to  look  out 
for  number  one,  and  to  care  for  nobody 
but  themselves. 

u  If  you  want  to  make  a  boy  swear, 
don't  frighten  him,  and  make  him  run  to 
his  mother,  as  you  did  before ;  but  first 
teach  him  to  say,  Confound  it,  or,  By 
George,  or,  By  jingo — just  let  him  get  in 
the  habit  of  using  such  expressions  when 
ever  he  is  surprised  or  angry,  and  you 
will  then  find  it  an  easy  matter  to  make 
him  swear.  If  you  want  him  to  steal,  let 


ABOUT   THE  BROWNIES.  71 

him  begin  at  home  with  a  lamp  of  sugar, 
a  piece  of  cake,  or  a  few  raisins ;  and 
then,  if  you  have  taught  him  to  lie  easily, 
you  will  soon  have  him  in  the  straight 
road  to  ruin." 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  Wormwood,  "  I'll  re 
member  ;  but  what  is  that  red  thing  in 
your  bag  ? " 

"  This,"  said  Nightshade,  pulling  out  a 
beautiful  coral  necklace,  "  this  is  '  Emily's 
birthday  present  from  uncle  John/  I 
borrowed  it,  Wormwood — just  borrowed 
it,  you  know,  to  pave  my  yard  with.  Ha, 
ha !  won't  these  little  beads  make  pretty 
paving  stones  ?  Little  Miss  Emily  had 
been  told  often  not  to  take  it  off  her 
neck  on  any  account,  but  I  persuaded  her 
one  day  just  to  try  it  on  her  little  white 
kitten.  By  the  way,  Wormwood,  that  lit 
tle  word  just  is  worth  all  the  beads  in 
creation  to  us — just  this,  and  only  just 
that.  0,  what  a  prime  little  word  it  is ! 
Well,  as  I  was  saying,  she  just  tried  it  on 
her  kitten,  and  I,  seeing  that  the  door  was 


72  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

open,  just  stuck  a  pin  into  kitty's  ear,  and 
away  she  flew  into  the  garden,  through 
bushes  and  fences,  and  I  after  her,  and 
Emily  crying  and  chasing  us  both,  until 
kit  dropped  her  necklace,  which  I  pocket 
ed,  or  rather  bagged,  and  left  Miss  Emily 
to  make  it  up  with  her  mother  and  uncle 
John  the  best  way  she  could." 

"And  what  did  you  do  next?"  said 
Wormwood. 

"Well,  I  amused  myself  in  various 
ways.  I  found  a  little  girl  sewing ;  and 
as  she  seemed  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  get 
through,  I  first  knotted  her  thread,  then 
twitched  her  needle  away,  and  threw  it 
as  far  as  I  could  across  the  room ;  and 
while  she  was  looking  for  it,  I  rolled  her 
spool  of  thread  under  the  stove,  and  blew 
a  piece  of  paper  over  her  scissors,  which 
she  had  dropped  in  looking  for  her  needle ; 
and  when  she  ran  up  stairs  to  get  more 
thread,  I  followed  her,  and  hung  her  nice 
new  dress  on  a  tack  which  her  brother 
had  just  driven  into  the  window  sill ;  and 


ABOUT    THE   BROWNIES.  73 

as  she  was  still  in  a  hurry,  she  tore  it 
across  a  whole  breadth  before  she  could 
stop.  0,  I've  torn  dozens  of  dresses  in 
this  manner,  on  nails  and  door-latches. 
Next,  I  went  into  the  kitchen  to  help 
them  take  up  dinner,  as  I  knew  they 
were  going  to  have  company.  The  first 
thing  I  did  was  to  slip  a  large  china  dish 
out  of  the  cook's  hands,  which  was  of 
course  broken  all  to  pieces.  Dinah  rolled 
up  her  eyes,  and  '  declared  she  didn't  know 
how  dat  ar  dish  cum  to  slip  out  of  her 
hands  —  she  spected  Miss  B.  would  be 
mighty  mad,  but  she  couldn't  help  it  no 
how.'  I  then  dropped  a  lump  of  fairy 
ice  into  the  saucepan,  and  Dinah  said  she 
( bleeved  it  was  bewitched  —  every  thing 
was  a  waiten  for  that  ar  gravy,  and  it 
wouldn't  bile.'  By  this  time  I  was  tired 
of  staying  in  the  house,  and  so,  after 
cracking  a  tumbler  with  my  bag  of  pen 
cils,  rolling  two  or  three  burning  brands 
from  the  fire  down  on  the  new  dining 


74  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

room  carpet,  and  filling  the  room  with 
smoke  and  smut,  I  flew  away. 

"  My  next  visit  was  to  a  farm  house. 
Here  I  had  fine  fun.  I  stuck  pins  into 
the  cows,  and  made  them  kick  over  the 
milk  pails,  scared  the  setting  hens,  and 
sent  them  cackling  off  their  nests,  fright 
ened  the  horses,  and  made  them  upset 
the  wagon  and  throw  all  the  farmer's  eggs 
and  butter  which  he  was  carrying  to  mar 
ket  into  the  mud,  and  various  other  pleas 
ant  little  tricks  of  the  kind ;  but  the  best 
thing  I  did  there  was  to  gnaw  the  clothes 
line,  and  let  down  all  the  wet  clothes  on 
the  ground,  and  then  drive  a  few  stray 
sheep  right  over  them  all.  0  Worm 
wood,  if  you  had  seen  that  old  woman 
and  her  daughters,  you  would  have 
laughed  yourself  all  away  to  nothing  — 
I  thought  they  would  be  the  death  of  me. 
They  had  just  dressed  themselves  up  in 
their  new  corn-colored  dresses,  and  were 
going  out  to  spend  the  afternoon,  hoping 
to  have  an  opportunity  of  saying  that 


ABOUT   THE   BROWNIES.  75 

'they  always  made  it  a  pint  to  get  all 
their  washin  and  cleanin  done  up  before 
dinner '  —  but  just  as  they  were  starting, 
one  of  them  happened  to  look  round 
towards  the  clothes;  and  what  a  sight 
met  their  astonished  eyes !  I  never  heard 
women  scold  and  storm  quite  as  bad  as 
they  did.  I  thought  in  my  heart  they'd 
swear.  I  left  them  disputing  as  to  who 
left  the  gate  open,  and  let  in  them  plaguy 
sheep,  and  went  laughing  off  through  the 
fields  towards  town." 

"  And  what  did  you  do  on  the  way  ?  " 
said  Wormwood. 

"  Well,  I  broke  a  few  butterflies'  wings, 
pulled  little  birds'  feathers,  stepped  into  a 
cottage  now  and  then,  tickled  the  babies' 
noses,  and  pulled  their  hair  to  make  them 
cross ;  stole  little  girls'  thimbles  and  nee 
dles  whenever  they  'only  laid  them  down  fast 
one  minute]  while  they  ran  off  to  play  or  to 
look  at  something ;  jerked  people  in  their 
sleep,  and  made  them  think  they  were 
falling ;  drew  ugly  pictures  on  their  fore- 


76  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM 

heads  to  make  them  have  bad  dreams ; 
went  to  church  on  Sunday  with  other 
good  people,  and  scattered  here  and 
there  a  pin  or  a  straw  for  the  little  boys 
and  girls  to  play  with ;  whispered  to  the 
ladies  to  look  at  Mrs.  A.'s  new  shawl,  and 
Miss  B.'s  horrid  ugly  bonnet,  &c. ;  fanned 
dull  people  with  poppy  leaves,  and  set 
them  to  bowing  and  bobbing  to  the  min 
ister  and  to  each  other ;  got  several  of 
the  singers  up  in  the  gallery  engaged  in 
whispering  and  writing  notes  to  each 
other;  told  the  minister  that  it  was  of 
no  use  to  preach  to  such  sleepy,  careless 
people — and  the  people  that  it  did  them 
no  good  to  hear  such  dull,  prosy  ser 
mons  ;  and  after  I  got  them  all  thor 
oughly  discontented,  why,  I  came  away, 
and  left  them  to  enjoy  themselves." 

«  Well,  well,"  said  Wormwood,  "  I'll  take 
you  for  a  pattern ; "  and  here  they  both 
together  set  up  such  a  horrid,  discordant 
laugh,  that  I  awoke. 

"Wife,"   said  I,   "do   the  children  re- 


ABOUT  THE   BROWNIES.  77 

member  their  prayers  morning  and  even 
ing  ?  You  needn't  look  any  more  for 
those  scissors ;  you'll  never  see  them 
again." 

"  Why,  my  dear  husband/'  said  she, 
laughing,  and  holding  up  the  scissors, 
a  what's  the  matter  now  ?  How  wild  and 
queer  you  look  !  —  you  must  have  been 
dreaming." 

I  was  thoroughly  awake  by  this  time, 
and  told  my  dream  to  Tom  and  Susan, 
who  had  just  returned  from  school. 
"And  now,  children,"  said  I,  "don't  let 
the  wicked  brownies  tempt  you  to  do 
any  of  their  naughty  tricks ;  always  tell 
the  truth,  and  don't  lay  your  things  down, 
not  a  single  minute,  but  always  put  them 
away  when  you  have  done  using  them." 

They  both  promised  to  be  very  good, 
and  Tom  ran  off  to  play ;  but  little  Susy 
climbed  up  in  my  lap,  and  said,  — 

"  Papa,  are  there  really  any  brownies  ? 
and  is  that  story  about  Viola  true,  that 
you  told  us  yesterday  ?  " 


78  UNCLE  JERRY'S  DREAM. 

"  No,  no,  dear/'  said  I,  "  they  are  only 
made-up  stories ;  but  it  is  true  that  there 
are  wicked  spirits,  always  ready  to  tempt 
us  to  do  wrong,  and  to  feel  discontented 
and  unhappy ;  and  it  is  also  true  that  the 
Lord  Jesus  and  his  good  angels  watch  over 
us,  and  are  always  ready  to  teach  and  help 
us  to  do  right,  and  to  be  good  and  happy. 
If  we  listen  to  them,  and  love  the  Bible, 
and  are  willing  to  be  led  and  guided  by 
their  kind  precepts,  they  will  never  leave 
us  to  the  power  of  the  wicked  ones,  but 
will  watch  over  us  and  take  care  of  us  as 
long  as  we  live,  help  us  through  all  our 
difficulties,  and  at  last  take  us  to  their 
happy  home,  to  live  with  them  forever." 


TAKE  CARE  OF  THE  HOOK. 

CHARLEY'S  mother  would  often  sit  with 
him  by  the  fire,  before  the  lamp  was 
lighted  in  the  evening,  and  repeat  to  him 
little  pieces  of  poetry.  This  is  one  that 
Charley  used  to  like  particularly.  It  is 
written  by  Miss  Jane  Taylor. 

THE   STORY    OF    THE   LITTLE   FISH. 

"  Dear  mother,"  said  a  little  fish, 

"  Pray  is  not  that  a  fly  ? 
I'm  very  hungry,  and  I  wish 

You'd  let  me  go  and  try." 

"  Sweet  innocent,"  the  mother  cried, 
And  started  from  her  nook, 

"  That  horrid  fly  is  meant  to  hide 
The  sharpness  of  the  hook ! " 

(79) 


80       TAKE  CARE  OF  THE  HOOK. 

Now,  as  I've  heard,  this  little  trout 

Was  young  and  silly  too ; 
And  so  he  thought  he'd  venture  out, 

To  see  what  he  could  do. 

And  round  about  the  fly  he  played, 
With  many  a  longing  look  ; 

And  often  to  himself  he  said, 
"  I'm  sure  that's  not  a  hook 

c  I  can  but  give  one  little  pluck 

To  try,  and  so  I  will." 
So  on  he  went,  and  lo,  it  stuck 

Quite  through  his  little  gill 

And  as  he  faint  and  fainter  grew, 
With  hollow  voice  he  cried, 

ft  Dear  mother,  if  I'd  minded  you, 
I  should  not  thus  have  died." 

After  this  was  finished,  Charley  looked 
gravely  into  the  fire,  and  began  his  re 
marks  upon  it.  "  What  a  silly  fellow  that 


TAKE  CARE  OF  THE  HOOK.       81 

little  trout  was  !     He  might  have  known 
better." 

"  Take  care,  Charley,"  said  his  mamma ; 
"  there  are  a  great  many  little  boys  just 
as  silly  as  this  trout.  For  instance,  I 
knew  a  little  boy,  a  while  ago,  whose 
mamma  told  him  not  to  touch  green 
apples  or  currants,  because  they  would 
make  him  sick.  He  did  not  mean  to 
touch  them,  for  he  knew  that  it  is  very 
disagreeable  to  be  sick  and  take  medicine, 
but  yet  he  did  the  very  same  thing  that 
this  little  trout  did. 

"  Instead  of  keeping  far  away,  he  would 
walk  about  under  the  trees  and  pick  up 
the  green  apples  to  look  at,  and  feel  of 
the  green  currants,  just  as  the  little  fish 
would  play  round  the  hook.  By  and  by 
he  said,  '  I  really  don't  think  they  will 
hurt  me  ;  I  will  just  take  one  little  taste.' 
And  then  he  ate  one,  and  then  another, 
till  finally  he  got  very  sick.  Do  you  re 
member  ?  " 

6 


82       TAKE  CARE  OF  THE  HOOK. 

"  0  mamma,  that  was  me.  Yes,  I  re 
member." 

66  Now,  Charley,  hear  what  I  tell  you  : 
nobody  does  very  wrong  things  because 
they  mean  to  at  first.  People  begin  by 
little  and  little,  just  tasting  and  trying 
what  is  wrong,  like  this  little  fish. 

"  Then  there  is  George  Jones,  a  very 
fine  boy,  a  bright  boy,  and  one  who  means 
to  do  right ;  but  then  George  does  not 
always  keep  away  from  the  hook.  You 
will  see  him  sometimes  standing  round 
places  where  men  are  drinking  and  swear 
ing.  George  does  not  mean  ever  to  drink 
or  to  swear ;  he  only  stands  there  to  hear 
these  men  sing  their  songs  and  tell  their 
stories,  and  sometimes  he  will  drink  just 
a  little  sip  of  sugar  and  spirits  out  of  the 
bottom  of  a  tumbler;  but  George  never 
means  really  to  be  a  drunkard.  Ah,  take 
care,  George ;  the  little  fish  did  not  mean 
to  be  caught  either,  but  he  kept  playing 
round  and  round  and  round  the  hook, 


TAKE  CARE  OF  THE  HOOK.       83 

and  at  last  he  was  snapped  up ;   and  so 
you  will  be  if  you  don't  take  care. 

"  Then  William  Day  means  to  be  an 
honest  boy,  and  you  could  not  make  him 
more  angry  than  to  tell  him  he  would 
ever  be  a  thief;  and  yet  William  plays 
too  much  round  the  hook.  What  does 
he  do  ?  Why,  he  will  take  little  things 
out  of  his  father's  desk  or  shop,  or  out  of 
his  mother's  basket  or  drawers,  when  he 
really  does  not  want  his  father  or  mother 
to  see  him  or  find  it  out.  William  thinks, 
'  0,  it's  only  a  little  thing ;  it  isn't  much 
matter ;  I  dare  say  they  had  just  as  lief  I 
had  it  as  not,'  Ah,  William,  do  you 
think  so  ?  Why  do  you  not  go  to  your 
parents  and  ask  for  it  then?  No;  the  fact 
is  that  William  is  learning  to  steal,  but  he 
does  not  believe  it  is  stealing  any  more 
than  the  little  fish  believed  that  what 
looked  like  a  fly  was  in  fact  a  dreadful 
hook.  By  and  by,  if  William  doesn't  take 
care,  when  he  goes  into  a  shop  or  store, 
he  will  begin  to  take  little  things  from 


84       TAKE  CARE  OF  THE  HOOK. 

his  master,  just  as  he  did  from  his  father 
and  mother ;  and  he  will  take  more  and 
more,  till  finally  he  will  be  named  and 
disgraced  as  a  thief,  and  all  because,  like 
the  little  fish,  he  ivould  plan  around  the  hook." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Charley,  "  who  are 
George  Jones  and  William  Day  ?  Did  I 
ever  see  them  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  I  must  use  some  names  in  a 
story ;  I  am  just  making  this  up  to  show 
Charley  what  I  mean  by  playing  round  the 
hooJc.  And  now  let  me  teach  you  a  text 
out  of  the  Bible  that  means  the  same 
thing:  'He  that  despiseth  small  things 
shall  fall  by  little  and  little.' " 


FAIRY  TALES. 

u  COME,  papa,  do  tell  us  a  story,"  said 
little  Edward  and  Mary  to  their  father, 
on  New  Year's  evening. 

"  A  story  —  a  story !  always  a  story," 
said  the  father.  "  What  shall  it  be  about, 
now?" 

"0,  something  wonderful."  said  Ed 
ward  ;  "  I  like  your  real  wonderful  stories, 
like  the  Arabian  Nights  —  about  palaces 
in  the  air,  and  about  genii  that  can  bring 
up  great  dishes  of  gold  and  diamonds." 

"Yes,"  said  little  Mary;  "and  where 
they  live  the  trees  are  all  covered  with 
pearls  and  precious  stones." 

"  Rather  poor  eating,  I  should  think," 
said  her  father,  "unless  they  have  extraor 
dinary  teeth." 

"And  then,  papa,  these  genii  can  go 
any  where  in  a  minute  —  up  to  the  sun, 

(85) 


86  FAIRY   TALES. 

and  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  ocean ; 
they  can  lift  up  great  mountains,  and  pile 
up  rocks,  and  they  have  long,  flashing 
swords." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  their  father, 
"  that  you  know  all  about  them  already. 
I  don't  need  to  tell  you  a  story  about 
them." 

"  0,  but  we  always  like  to  hear,  even  if 
we  do  know." 

« Well,"  said  the  father,  « then  I  will 
tell  you  a  story  about  two  little  children 
whose  father  was  a  Spirit  King." 

"  What,  a  genius  ?  "  said  Edward. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  what  you  mean 
by  a  genius.  He  was  a  spirit  and  a  great, 
powerful  king,  and  he  could  do  all  those 
things  that  you  say  the  genii  can,  and  a 
great  many  more.  He  could  lift  up  moun 
tains,  if  he  chose ;  he  could  raise  up  all 
the  great  waves  of  the  sea,  and  make 
dreadful  storms,  if  he  only  spoke  to  them ; 
and  as  to  bringing  up  pearls  and  dia 
monds,  he  knew  where  every  pearl  and 


FAIRY   TALES.  87 

diamond  was  to  be  found,  that  is  any 
where  in  the  world,  or  even  down  at  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean,  or  in  the  deep,  dark 
caves  in  the  middle  of  the  earth ;  and  he 
could  bring  them  all  up  only  by  speaking 
to  them." 

"  Where  did  he  live,  papa  ?  " 

"0,  far  off — up,  up  in  the  sky;  be 
yond  the  stars  was  his  home ;  there  he 
had  a  beautiful  palace." 

"  0,  do  tell  us  about  it." 

"Well,  then,  the  walls  of  the  palace 
were  built  of  jasper " 

"  I  have  read  something  like  this  in  the 
Arabian  Nights,"  said  Edward. 

"  But  I  don't  know  what  jasper  is,"  said 
Mary. 

"A  very  clear,  bright  crimson  stone," 
said  her  father ;  "  and  it  was  polished  till 
it  shone  like  a  looking  glass ;  then  every 
door  in  the  palace  was  made  of  one 
whole  pearl." 

"What  wonderful  pearls  they  must 
have  been  !  "  said  Mary, 


88  FAIRY   TALES. 

"  0,  such  things  are  very  common  in 
these  stories,"  said  Edward. 

"  So  you  may  think,"  said  his  father. 
"  How  beautifully  all  these  doors  would 
look,  carved  out  of  white,  glistening 
pearl ! " 

"And  had  they  gold  hinges?"  asked 
Edward. 

"  No  doubt,"  said  his  father.  «  Then  all 
the  foundations  of  the  palace  were  set 
full  of  sparkling,  precious  stones ;  for 
instance,  one  foundation  stone  would  be 
full  of  diamonds,  and  the  next  would 
be  of  bright  yellow  topaz,  and  the  next 
would  be  sparkling  green  emeralds,  and 
the  next  would  be  clear,  blue  sapphires, 
and  so  on,  all  the  colors  you  could  think 
of,  so  that  the  foundation  looked  like  a 
dazzling  rainbow." 

"  0,  this  is  a  real  fairy  story,"  said  Ed 
ward  ;  "  better  than  any  I  ever  heard." 

"  Then,"  said  his  father,  "  this  palace 
was  not  one  small  house,  such  as  we  live 
in.  In  Europe,  where  the  kings  have 


FAIRY    TALES.  89 

palaces,  they  often  take  up  two  or  three 
squares  of  a  city ;  but  this  palace  is  a 
city  itself;  it  has  streets  through  it,  and 
these  streets  are  paved  with  gold,  and 
the  gold  is  polished  so  smooth  and  clear 
that  it  is  just  like  a  looking  glass,  so  that 
you  can  see  every  thing  in  it." 

"  And  who  lives  there  ? "  asked  Edward. 

"  0,  all  sorts  of  beautiful  spirits ;  you 
know  I  told  you  that  this  was  a  Spirit 
King,"  said  his  father. 

"  But  you  have  not  told  us  any  thing 
about  the  king  ;  was  he  very  beautiful  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  boy,  he  was  very  beautiful ; 
so  beautiful  that  those  who  saw  him 
among  all  these  splendid  things  forgot  to 
look  at  them,  and  looked  only  at  him." 

«  How  did  he  look  ?  " 

"That  I  cannot  tell  you.  It  is  said 
that  his  robes  were  all  dazzling  and  bright 
I  can  only  tell  you  that  he  was  more 
beautiful  than  all  the  most  beautiful 
things  you  ever  saw  together." 


90  FAIRY   TALES. 

"  Well,  papa,,  and  what  about  those  chil 
dren  ?  " 

"Why,  there  were  two  little  children 
once,  and  this  great  king  was  their  father. 
They  never  had  seen  him." 

"  Never  seen  their  father !  How  strange ! 
Did  he  love  them  ?  " 

66  Yes  ;  he  loved  them  very  dearly,  and 
took  excellent  care  of  them,  as  you  shall 
hear." 

"  But  pray  where  did  these  children 
live  ?  " 

"  What  should  you  say  if  I  told  you 
that  you  were  these  children  ?  " 

"We,  father?" 

"  Yes,  my  children ;  have  you  never 
heard  of  a  Spirit  King,  who  covers  him 
self  with  light  as  a  garment,  who  stretches 
out  the  heavens  as  a  curtain,  who  layeth 
the  beams  of  his  chambers  in  the  waters, 
who  maketh  the  clouds  his  chariot,  and 
walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind  ?  " 

u 0,  papa,  we  know  now"  said  the  chil 
dren. 


FAIRY   TALES.  91 

"But  that  is  out  of  the  Bible,"  said 
Edward ;  u  I  have  read  it  a  great  many 
times.  I  thought  you  were  telling  a  fairy 
story." 

"  And  what  is  that  about  his  palace  ?  " 
said  Mary. 

"Do  you  not  remember  the  twenty- 
first  of  Revelation,  where  the  beautiful 
city  is  described  ?  — '  And  her  light  was 
like  unto  a  jasper  stone,  clear  as  crystal, 
and  the  building  of  the  wall  of  it  was  of 
jasper,  and  the  foundation  of  the  walls  of 
the  city  were  garnished  with  all  manner 
of  precious  stones,  and  the  twelve  gates 
were  twelve  pearls,  each  separate  gate  of 
one  pearl,  and  the  street  of  the  city  was 
pure  gold,  as  it  were  transparent  glass,' " 

u  0,  yes  ;  I  remember,"  said  Mary. 

"  Well,  now,  my  dears,"  said  their  father, 
tt  I  want  you  to  remember  one  thing. 
There  is  nothing  that  you  read  of  in 
fairy  stories  that  is  as  strange  and  won 
derful  as  what  is  true  about  you  children." 

"About  us,  papa?" 


92  FAIRY   TALES. 

"Yes,  my  children;  you  arc  children 
of  One  greater  than  any  spirit  king ;  you 
have  a  Father  who  knows  every  thing, 
and  can  do  every  thing,  and  who  can 
make  more  beautiful  things  in  an  hour 
than  ever  you  read  of  in  any  fairy  tale ; 
and  you  will  live  as  long  as  he  does  — 
forever." 

The  little  children  looked  at  their  fa 
ther  with  a  serious  air ;  they  were  struck 
with  the  tone  in  which  he  pronounced 
the  word  forever. 

"But,"  added  their  father,  "you  will 
not  only  live  as  long  as  God  lives,  but 
you  may  become  yourselves  more  beauti 
ful,  and  bright,  and  glorious  than  the  sun 
or  stars  in  yonder  sky." 

«  Does  the  Bible  say  so,  father  ?  "  said 
Mary. 

"  You  know,"  said  their  father,  "  that 
our  Saviour  says,  when  speaking  of  the 
day  of  judgment,  'Then  shall  the  righteous 
shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of 

o 

their  Father;'  and  it  is  said  in  Daniel, 


FAIRY   TALES.  93 

xii.  6,  'And  many  of  them  that  sleep  in 
the  dust  of  the  earth  shall  awake,  some 
to  everlasting  life,  and  some  to  shame 
and  everlasting  contempt/  'And  they 
that  are  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness 
of  the  firmament,  and  they  that  turn 
many  to  righteousness  as  the  stars  for 
ever.'  Now,  my  little  ones,  I  do  not  for 
bid  your  reading  these  wonderful  fairy 
tales,  but  I  want  you  to  remember,  when 
you  read  the  strangest  and  most  wonder 
ful  things  that  are  told  in  them,  that 
things  more  strange,  more  wonderful,  are 
true  with  regard  to  you.  To  have  a  Fa 
ther  in  heaven,  to  have  a  soul  that  never 
can  die,  to  hope,  through  your  Saviour, 
to  live  forever  in  heaven,  is  more  won 
derful  than  all  the  wonders  of  fairy  land." 


A  TALK  ABOUT  BIRDS. 

ONE  bright  morning,  when  the  yellow 
dandelions  were  shining  out  like  so  many 
gold  dollars  in  the  green  grass,  and  the 
brooks  were  chattering  and  purling  to  each 
other,  and  small  eyebrights  were  looking 
up  from  the  turf  like  flocks  of  little  white 
sheep,  a  little  boy,  whom  we  shall  call 
Jamie,  found,  all  of  a  sudden,  that  his 
school  had  stopped,  and  he  had  come  to 
the  first  day  of  his  vacation. 

So  says  Jamie  to  himself,  "  What  shall 
I  do  all  day  long?"  After  a  while  he 
thought  he  would  take  a  basket,  and  go 
over  into  a  neighboring  field,  and  gather 
gome  eyebrights  and  violets  to  dress 
flower  vases  for  his  mamma. 

Well,  over  the  fence  he  went,  and  wan 
dered  far  off  into  the  field;  and  there  he 
met  two  strange  boys,  larger  than  he, 

(94) 


A    TALK   ABOUT   BIRDS.  95 

whose  names  were  Will  Drake  and  Charles 
Jones. 

"  Hulloa ! "  said  one  of  the  boys  to  him ; 
a  come  along  with  us  —  we  are  going  to 
have  fun.  We  have  got  our  pockets  full 
of  stories,  and  we  are  going  to  kill  birds 
with  them ;  it 's  the  best  fun  in  the  world." 

Now,  Jamie  was  a  thoughtless  little 
fellow,  and  when  another  boy  asked  him 
to  do  a  thing,  at  it  he  went  at  once,  without 
so  much  as  thinking  whether  it  was  right 
or  not;  so  he  filled  his  pockets  with 
stones,  and  began  running  and  shouting 
with  the  other  boys.  "  Hulloa !  there's  a 
chipping  bird/'  said  one ;  "  I'll  hit  him." 
"  Look  at  that  robin  ! "  bawled  another ; 
"  send  a  stone  at  him.  0,  there's  a  blue 
bird  !  now  for  him ! "  I  am  happy  to  say 
that  these  boys  missed  their  hits,  gener 
ally,  for  they  had  much  worse  intentions 
than  they  had  skill  to  execute. 

While  they  were  thus  running  about, 
a  nice  white  cat  came  stepping  along  the 
top  of  a  fence,  putting  down  her  paws  as 


96  A   TALK   ABOUT    BIRDS. 

daintily  as  any  lady.  "Hulloa!  there's  a 
cat ;  now  for  fun/'  shouted  Will  Drake,  as 
he  let  fly  a  stone,  and  then  clashed  after 
the  cat.  Puss  was  frightened,  and  scam 
pered  with  all  her  might ;  and  all  three  of 
the  boys  joined  chase  after  her,  and  came 
tumbling,  one  after  another,  over  the 
back  yard  fence  of  the  place  where  Jamie 
lived. 

Now,  Jamie's  mother  had  been  sitting 
at  her  window  watching  the  whole  affair ; 
and  now  she  stood  up,  and  called,  in  a 
very  quiet  way,  "  Jamie,  come  up  here  ;  I 
have  something  to  show  you." 

The  other  two  boys  slunk  away  a  lit 
tle.  Jamie  came  up  into  his  mother's 
room,  all  panting  and  hot,  and  began  — 
"Mamma,  what  do  you  want  to  show 
me?" 

Now  Jamie's  mamma  was  a  very  kind 
and  tender-hearted  woman,  and  nothing 
seemed  more  dreadful  to  her  than  cruelty 
to  any  animal.  Now,  some  mothers,  who 
felt  as  she  did,  would  have  seized  Jamie 


A   TALK   ABOUT    BIRDS.  97 

by  the  arm,  and  said,  "  Here,  you  naughty 
boy ;  I  saw  you  stoning  birds  over  in  the 
lot ;  if  you  ever  do  such  a  thing  again,  I 
shall  punish  you."  But  Jamie's  mother 
had  reflected  about  these  things,  and  made 
up  her  mind  that  when  little  boys  did 
cruel  things,  it  was  more  because  they 
were  thoughtless,  than  because  they  at 
heart  were  cruel ;  and,  therefore,  instead 
of  blaming  him  harshly,  she  set  out  to 
make  him  think. 

So,  when  Jamie  came  in,  she  washed 
his  heated  face  and  hands,  and  then 
took  from  a  drawer  a  small  black  box, 
which  she  wound  up  with  a  key  like  a 
watch-key.  As  soon  as  the  box  was  set 
down,  it  began  to  play  a  most  beautiful 
tune,  and  Jamie  was  astonished  and  de 
lighted. 

"  What  a  curious  box  ! "  said  he ;  "  who 
did  make  it  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  suid  his  mother ;  "  but 
why  do  you  think  it  is  curious  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  is  curious  to  see  a  musical 
7 


98  A   TALK    ABOUT   BIRDS. 

instrument  shut  up  in  such  a  little  box. 
Why,  I  could  carry  this  about  in  my 
pocket.  I  wish  'twas  mine,  and  I'd  set  it 
a-going,  and  put  it  in  my  pocket,  some 
day,  and  then  I  could  make  the  boys 
stare." 

"  But,"  said  his  mother,  "  if  you  think  it 
strange  to  see  a  musical  instrument  put 
in  a  little  box,  what  would  you  think  if  I 
could  tell  you  of  one  which  was  put  in  a 
bird's  throat?" 

66  In  a  bird's  throat ! "  said  Jamie ;  "  who 
ever  heard  of  such  a  thing  ?  " 

"  Well,"  answered  his  mother,  "  there  is 
a  boy  in  this  room  who  has  been  listen 
ing  this  morning  to  a  little  instrument 
which  is  inside  of  a  bird's  throat,  and 
which  can  make  sweeter  music  than  this 
box ;  and  yet  he  did  not  seem  to  wonder 
at  it  at  all." 

Jamie  looked  wondering  at  his  mother. 
"  When  you  went  into  the  fields,  did  you 
not  hear  robins  and  blue-birds  playing 
on  little  instruments  in  their  throats,  and 


A    TALK   ABOUT   BIRDS.  99 

making  all  sorts  of  sweet  sounds  ?  Look 
now  at  your  little  Canary  bird  hanging 
in  the  window,  and  see  when  he  sings 
how  his  throat  trembles." 

"  0,  I  know  what  you  mean  now/' 
said  Jamie  ;  "  you  mean  my  little  Canary 
bird  is  like  a  music  box.  "Well,  but  what 
sort  of  an  instrument  has  he  got  in  his 
throat  ?  I'm  sure  I  don't  know." 

"  Why,  he  has  a  little,  fine,  soft  flute, 
that  can  play  as  many  notes  as  a  piano." 

"A  flute  in  his  throat,"  said  Jamie, 
laughing ;  "  what  a  funny  idea !  " 

"  It  is  even  so,"  said  his  mother.  "  The 
little  pipe  through  which  the  Canary  bird 
plays  his  tunes  is  more  curiously  made 
than  any  flutes  which  any  instrument 
maker  ever  formed ;  it  is  so  small,  yet  so 
perfect ;  it  fits  into  his  throat  so  easily  as 
never  to  interrupt  his  eating  or  breath 
ing  ;  and  it  turns  whichever  way  he  bends 
his  head.  Now,  did  you  ever  hear  of  any 
musical  instrument  that  was  as  curious  as 
this  ?  " 


100  A   TALK    ABOUT   BIRDS. 

"Now,  it  is  strange,"  said  Jamie;  "I 
might  have  heard  a  bird  sing  a  month, 
and  never  have  thought  of  all  this ;  but 
now  I  do  think  of  it,  it  seems  very  curi 
ous. 

"But,  mother,  what  is  this  little  flute 
made  of?" 

"  It  is  made  of  little  elastic  rings." 

66  Elastic !  what  is  that  ?  "  said  Jamie. 

"  Why,  like  India  rubber,  springy  and 
easily  bent ;  and  its  being  made  of  so 
many  little  elastic  rings  is  the  reason  why 
he  can  turn  and  bend  his  throat  without 
any  inconvenience,  which  he  could  not 
do  if  it  were  a  straight,  stiff  pipe,  like  a 
flute. 

"But,"  continued  his  mother,  "these 
little  bright  eyes  that  your  bird  has  are 
more  wonderful  than  any  thing  I  have 
yet  told  you  of;  but  the  contrivance  is  so 
very  complicated  that  I  do  not  think  I 
can  make  you  understand  it." 

"  What  is  complicated  ?  "  said  Jamie. 

"  The  machinery  in  the  inside  of  my 


A   TALK    ABOUT   BIRDS.  101 

watch  is  complicated ;  that  is,  it  is  made  up 
of  a  great  many  parts  which  answer  many 
different  purposes.  And  there  is  a  ma 
chinery  inside  of  one  of  those  little  birds' 
eyes  that  is  more  complicated  still." 

"  What,  that  little  dot  of  an  eye,  not 
bigger  than  a  pin  head  ?  " 

"  Well,  let  me  tell  you ;  inside  of  that 
little  eye  is  a  contrivance  by  which,  when 
the  bird  is  looking  at  you,  an  exact  pic 
ture  of  you  is  painted  on  the  back  of  his 
eye." 

"  It  must  be  a  very  small  picture,"  said 
Jamie. 

66  Of  course  it  is,"  said  his  mother,  "  but 
still  it  is  a  picture  exactly  like  you ;  every 
line  and  every  color  in  your  face  is 
painted  exactly  on  the  back  of  that  little 
eye." 

"  Pray,  how  is  it  done  ?  "  said  Jamie. 

•"  That,  my  dear  boy,  is  the  machinery 
which  I  told  you  was  so  complicated  that 
I  cannot  hope  to  make  you  understand 
it.  There  is  a  contrivance  just  like  it  in 


102  A  TALK   ABOUT    BIKDS. 

your  own  eye,  and  in  the  eye  of  every 
animal ;  but  it  is  more  curious  in  a  bird's 
eye,  because  it  is  so  very  small." 

"What,  do  we  all  have  pictures  painted 
on  the  back  of  our  eyes?  Is  that  the 
way  we  see  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way ;  and  when  you 
are  older  you  will  be  able  to  understand 
the  wonderful  and  beautiful  contrivance 
by  which  this  is  done.  It  has  cost  learned 
men  much  study  to  find  it  out,  and  they 
have  discovered  that  the  way  in  which 
the  'eye  of  a  bird  is  made  in  some  re 
spects  is  more  curious  than  our  own." 

"Well,  mamma,"  said  Jamie,  "you  have 
convinced  me  of  one  thing ;  and  that  is, 
that  there  is  a  great  deal  more  to  be 
learned  about  a  little  bird  than  I  ever 
supposed." 

"  But,  Jamie,  I  have  not  yet  told  you 
half.  Every  bone  in  this  little  bird's  body 
is  as  carefully  made  and  finished  as  if 
that  bone  were  the  only  thing  the  Creator 
had  to  make ;  and  the  joints  of  them  are 


A   TALK   ABOUT    BIRDS.  103 

curiously  contrived,  so  that  the  little  fel 
low  can  hop,  and  spring,  and  turn  all 
day,  and  yet  nothing  grates  or  gets  out 
of  order.  They  all  move  so  springy  and 
easily,  that  I  doubt  whether  he  ever 
thought  that  he  had  a  joint  in  his  body 
or  not.  Then  he  has  contrivances  in 
his  little  stomach  for  dissolving  his  food, 
and  turning  it  into  blood,  and  he  has 
blood  vessels  to  carry  it  all  over  his  body, 
and  he  has  nerves  to  feel  with,  and  he 
has  muscles  to  move  with." 

"Now,  mother,  I  don't  know  what 
nerves  and  muscles  are,"  said  Jamie. 

u  Nerves  are  what  you  feel  with.  You 
eat,  and  the  nerves  of  your  mouth  give 
you  your  taste.  The  nerves  of  your  nose 
give  you  smell.  The  nerves  of  your  eyes 
see,  and  the  nerves  of  your  ears  enable 
you  to  hear,  and  the  nerves  that  cover 
your  whole  body  enable  you  to  feel. 
These  nerves  all  come  from  a  very  large 
nerve,  that  runs  down  through  the  mid 
dle  of  your  back  bone,  and  which  is  com- 


104  A   TALK   ABOUT    BIRDS. 

monly  called  the  spinal  marrow ;  and  they 
go  through  the  whole  body,  dividing  and 
branching  out,  till  they  form  a  network 
covering  over  the  whole  of  it,  so  that  you 
cannot  put  the  point  of  a  pin  any  where 
without  touching  a  nerve." 

"  Mother,  has  a  bird  just  such  nerves?" 

a  Very  much  the  same." 

"  And  what  are  muscles  ?  " 

"Did  you  never  pull  a  piece  of  lean 
meat  into  little  strings  ? "  said  his  mother. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jamie. 

"  Well,  a  muscle  is  a  bundle  of  such 
little  strings,  and  these  strings  generally 
end  in  a  strong,  tough  cord,  called  a  ten 
don.  This  muscle  has  the  power  of  shrink 
ing  up  short,  like  India  rubber;  and  when 
it  shrinks  it  pulls  the  tendon,  and  the 
tendon  pulls  whatever  it  is  fastened  to. 
I  can  show  you  some  tendon  in  a  moment. 
Pull  the  back  of  your  hand ;  don't  you 
find  that  there  is  a  tough,  hard  cord  runs 
down  from  every  finger  ?  these  are  ten- 


A   TALK    ABOUT   BIRDS.  105 

dons.  Now  take  hold  tight  round  your 
arm,  and  shut  up  your  hand." 

Jamie  did  so,  and  exclaimed,  "0, 
mother,  when  I  shut  up  my  hand,  I  feel 
something  move  up  here  by  my  elbow." 

"  That  is  the  muscle,"  said  his  mother ; 
"you  feel  it  drawing  up  short,  and  it  pulls 
the  tendons,  and  these  tendons  pull  down 
your  fingers." 

Jamie  amused  himself  some  time  with 
opening  and  shutting  his  hand,  and  then 
he  said,  — 

"  Well,  are  all  the  movements  that  we 
make  done  in  the  same  way,  by  muscles 
and  tendons?" 

"Yes,"  said  his  mother,  "and  all  the 
motions  of  the  animals.  There  are  dozens 
and  dozens  of  muscles,  shrinking,  and 
stretching,  and  pulling  about  in  little 
Cherry  every  few  moments,  and  yet  none 
of  them  wear  out,  or  break,  or  get  out  of 
order,  or  give  him  the  least  trouble." 

"  I  guess  Cherry  don't  think  much 
about  them,"  said  Jamie,  as  he  watched 


106  A    TALK   ABOUT    BIRDS. 

the    little   fellow  hopping   about  in  his 
cage. 

"Poor  little  Cherry,"  said  his  mother, 
"he  cannot  understand  how  much  God 
has  done  for  him,  with  what  watchful  care 
he  has  made  his  little  body,  how  carefully 
he  has  guarded  it  from  all  kinds  of  suf 
fering,  and  how  many  beautiful  contri 
vances  there  are  in  it  to  make  him 
happy." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Jamie ;  "  if  he  did  he 
would  love  God." 

"  Well,  Jamie,"  said  his  mother,  "  how 
should  you  feel,  if  you  had  contrived 
some  curious  and  beautiful  little  play 
thing,  and  just  as  you  had  it  all  nicely 
finished  ofi^  some  boy  should  come  along 
with  a  great  stick,  and  knock  it  all  to 
pieces  ?  " 

"  Feel  ?  "  said  Jamie ;  "  why,  I  should  be 
mad  enough." 

"And  suppose  that  some  gentleman 
should  invite  you  and  two  or  three  other 
boys  to  his  house,  and  should  show  you 


A   TALK  ABOUT    BIRDS.  107 

into  a  large  hall  fall  of  most  beautiful 
pictures,  and  looking  glasses,  and  flowers, 
and  every  kind  of  beautiful  things,  and 
you  should  amuse  yourselves  with  break 
ing  his  looking  glasses,  and  beating  dowrn 
his  flowers,  and  pulling  to  pieces  all  his 
curious  and  beautiful  things ;  how  do  you 
think  he  would  feel?" 

«  Why,  I  should  think  he  would  feel 
very  angry,  to  b$  sure." 

"  Well,  Jamie,  when  little  boys  go  out 
into  the  woods  and  fields  which  God  has 
filled  with  beautiful  trees  and  flowers,  and 
with  hundreds  of  little  happy  birds,  all  so 
curiously  and  beautifully  made,  and  amuse 
themselves  only  with  throwing  stones  at 
them,  and  killing  them,  must  not  God  be 
displeased  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  I  should  think  he  must," 
said  Jamie.  After  a  few  minutes,  he  added, 
"  And  it  is  a  great  deal  worse  to  kill  little 
birds  than  it  is  to  break  looking  glasses, 
and  such  things,  because  little  birds  can 
feel,  you  know." 


108  THE   NEST   IN   THE    ORCHARD. 

"  Yes/'  said  his  mother,  "  and  the  care 
with  which  God  has  made  them  shows 
how  much  he  has  thought  about  them, 
and  how  careful  he  has  been  to  do  all  he 
can  to  make  them  happy.  The  Bible 
says,  his  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his 
works ;  he  is  not  merely  good  to  every 
thing,  but  he  is  tender  and  careful  in  all 
he  does,  as  a  mother  is  tender  in  taking 
care  of  a  little  helpless  infant.  Now," 
said  his  mamma,  "  I  am  going  to  read  you 
a  little  story." 


IT  was  a  bright  and  beautiful  morning 
in  April.  The  snows  had  melted  into  the 
little  brooks,  and  the  little  brooks  ran  rat 
tling  and  gurgling  about  among  the  green, 
mossy  stones.  The  violet  had  opened  its 
fair  blue  eyes  to  look  forth  from  its  tufts 
of  leaves ;  the  broad  blades  of  the  water 
flag  and  the  blue  lily  were  shooting  up 
fresh  and  green;  the  yellow  dandelions 
spotted  the  grass,  and  tufts  of  golden 


THE  NEST  IN  THE  ORCHARD.     109 

cowslips  grew  close  by  the  water.  The 
little  leaves  had  just  begun  to  show  them 
selves,  and  looked  like  a  thin  green  veil 
spread  over  the  trees.  The  little  birds 
had  come  back  a  long  way  through  the 
air  from  the  various  countries  where  they 
had  been  spending  the  wrinter,  and  were 
filling  the  whole  air  with  music. 

On  a  mossy  rail,  a  part  of  the  orchard 
fence,  sat  two  beautiful  bluebirds  enjoy 
ing  the  bright  sunshine,  and  twittering 
and  chattering  to  each  other  with  all  their 
might.  This  little  pair  of  birds,  the  last 
year,  had  made  their  nest  in  this  very  or 
chard,  and  brought  up  a  whole  family  of 
little  birds.  All  winter  they  had  been 
chirping  about  and  enjoying  themselves 
among  the  warm,  sunny  valleys  of  the 
Bahama  Isles ;  and  now  they  had  come 
back  again  to  go  to  house  keeping  in  the 
old  orchard. 

In  the  very  middle  of  this  peaceful  or 
chard  was  a  spreading  apple  tree,  whose 
bending  branches  almost  touched  the 


110  THE   NEST   IN   THE   ORCHAKD. 

ground  all  around.  The  tall  grass  and 
clover  grew  up  so  high  under  this  tree  as 
to  mix  with  the  leaves  and  fruit  on  the  end 
of  these  boughs,  and  underneath  there 
was  a  delicious  cool  little  room,  roofed  by 
the  branches,  where  all  summer  long  no 
creature  had  admission  but  the  birds,  and 
the  little  flies,  and  the  honey  bees  —  for 
this  tree  stood  in  the  very  middle  of  the 
orchard,  and  Farmer  Brown  kept  good 
watch  that  no  boys  should  get  into  it  to 
trample  down  the  long  grass  before  mow 
ing  time.  Well,  in  the  trunk  of  this  old 
tree,  just  where  the  branches  parted, 
was  a  snug  little  hole.  It  was  exactly 
big  enough  for  a  bird  to  build  its  nest  in, 
and  it  was  so  situated  that  any  one  stand 
ing  under  the  tree  and  looking  up  could 
not  have  thought  of  there  being  any  hole 
there.  A  safer  little  house  for  a  bird 
could  never  have  been  found ;  and  here 
these  little  birds  had  concluded  to  build 
their  nest. 

So  they  set  to  work  and  picked  out  all 


THE  NEST  IN  THE  ORCHARD.     Ill 

* 

the  rubbish  and  dry  sticks  that  had  fallen 
into  the  hole,  and  after  they  had  nicely 
cleaned  it  out,  they  laid  the  foundation 
of  their  little  house  with  small  twigs, 
which  they  plastered  firmly  together  with 
mud ;  then  they  picked  up  straw  and  hay 
for  the  next  layer,  and  wove  them  into 
a  little  round  nest;  and  after  that  they 
flew  all  over  the  neighborhood  to  pick 
up  all  the  stray  feathers,  and  soft  bits  of 
wool  or  moss  that  they  could  find,  to  line 
the  inside  and  make  it  soft  and  warm. 

It  took  these  little  birds  two  or  three 
days  before  their  nest  was  finished.  But 
on  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  just  as  the 
long,  bright,  beams  of  the  setting  sun  were 
darting  between  the  apple  trees  of  the 
old  orchard,  the  two  little  birds  might 
have  been  seen  chirping  and  chatting 
together  over  their  finished  nest  in  the 
happiest  manner  in  the  world. 

"  What  a  lucky  thing  it  was,  my  dear," 
said  the  little  wife,  "  that  you  found  such 
a  snug  hole  !  I  am  sure  nobody  will  ever 


112     THE  NEST  IN  THE  ORCHARD. 

find  us  out  here.  We  can  fly  all  about 
under  this  great  tree,  and  nobody  will  ever 
see  us  or  suspect  what  we  are  doing." 

"  And,  my  dear/'  said  the  little  husband, 
u  I  am  delighted  with  your  weaving  here, 
in  the  inside  of  the  house.  How  nicely 
you  have  worked  in  that  little  bit  of  red 
silk  on  one  side !  I  had  no  idea,  when  the 
good  woman  swept  that  piece  out  of 
doors,  that  you  could  make  so  much  of 
it.  Then  how  soft  and  warm  the  wool 
is.  Ah,  very  few  bluebirds  can  make  a 
handsomer  nest  than  this." 

"Yes,"  said  the  wife,  "and  there  is 
almost  a  yard  of  lace  woven  into  it.  I 
picked  it  off  from  a  bush,  where  an  old 
lady  had  hung  it  on  purpose  for  me." 

When  the  old  apple  tree  began  to  put 
forth  its  pink  buds,  after  a  few  days  five 
little  blue  eggs  made  their  appearance  in 
the  nest,  and  then  the  mother  bird  began 
to  sit ;  while  her  mate  spent  all  his  time 
either  in  flying  about  to  look  up  food  for 
her,  or  perching  about  in  different  parts 


THE   NEST   IN   THE    ORCHARD.  113 

of  the  tree,  and  entertaining  her  with  his 
music.  At  length  the  buds  on  the  old 
tree  opened,  and  it  grew  white  with  fra 
grant  blossoms,  and  five  little  downy 
birds  were  to  be  seen  in  the  nest.  No 
body  can  say  how  delighted  both  parents 
were.  They  carefully  picked  out  all  the 
broken  bits  of  the  eggs  from  their  nest, 
and  then,  while  one  Would  sit  with  wings 
outspread  to  keep  the  little  creatures 
warm,  the  other  would  range  about  and 
get  flies  and  worms  to  feed  them.  Little 
birds  are  amazingly  hungry ;  and  when 
either  parent  returned  with  food,  you 
might  have  seen  five  little  red  mouths 
gaping  wide  open,  all  ready  to  receive 
their  portion.  And  when  their  hunger 
was  fully  satisfied,  the  mother  would  nes 
tle  over  them  with  her  warm  feathers, 
and  the  father  bird  would  sit  beside  her, 
and  they  would  admire  the  beautiful  sheet 
of  white  blossoms  over  their  heads,  and 
have  long  talks  about  their  little  family, 
and  how  soon  they  would  be  learning  to 
8 


114  THE  NEST   IN  THE   ORCHARD. 

fly,  and  then  what  journeys  they  would 
take  with  them,  and  what  good  times  they 
would  have. 

One  beautiful  morning,  while  the  dew 
drops  were  yet  twinkling  among  the  blos 
soms,  the  father  bird  prepared  to  go  on 
one  of  his  voyages  after  food.  He  bade 
good  morning  to  his  little  family  in  a 
sweet  song,  which  he  sung  on  the  highest 
branch  of  the  apple  tree,  and  then  soared 
off  into  the  blue  sky,  as  happy  a  little 
bird  as  ever  was  seen. 

Just  at  the  same  time,  a  man  with  a 
large  bag  tied  about  his  neck,  and  a  long 
gun  in  his  hand,  made  his  appearance  in 
the  fields.  Pretty  soon  he  saw  our  poor 
little  bluebird,  as  he  was  sitting  on  the 
top  of  a  tree  with  a  worm  in  his  mouth, 
which  he  was  just  going  to  carry  home  to 
his  family. 

So  he  drew  up  his  gun  and  fired,  and 
down  fell  the  poor  little  bluebird.  The 
man  walked  to  the  spot  and  picked  him 


THE  NEST   IN  THE   ORCHARD.  115 

Up — the  shot  had  gone  through  his  head, 
and  he  was  quite  dead. 

K  What  could  he  want  to  shoot  the  little 
birds  for  ?"  said  Jamie. 

"My  dear  boy,  some  people  have  an 
absurd  way  of  thinking  that  birds  will 
injure  the  fruit;  and  as  there  were  one  or 
two  ripe  cherry  trees  in  this  orchard,  the 
man  thought  they  would  get  his  cherries. 
It  is  a  very  foolish  idea ;  for  little  birds, 
in  fact,  do  more  good  by  devouring  the 
grubs  and  insects  that  injure  trees  and 
plants,  than  all  the  harm  they  can  do  by 
helping  themselves  now  and  then  to  a 
little  fruit." 

Well,  it  came  noon,  and  the  mother 
bird  remained  in  the  old  apple  tree,  still 
brooding  and  tending  her  little  ones,  and 
wondering  that  their  poor  father  did  not 
return  as  he  had  promised.  Very  soon 
the  long  shadows  stretched  to  the  east, 
and  showed  that  the  afternoon  was  far 
spent;  and  still  he  did  not  return,  and 


116  THE  NEST   IN   THE   ORCHARD. 

the  mother  bird  wondered,  and  the  little 
birds  began  to  call  for  their  food.  So  the 
mother  left  the  little  birds,  and  went  to 
the  top  of  the  tree,  and  began  to  call  on 
her  husband ;  but  she  could  not  make  him 
hear.  She  fluttered  around  among  the 
trees  of  the  orchard,  looking  for  him,  and 
calling  him ;  but  in  vain.  Then  she  picked 
up  some  food  for  her  little  ones,  and  re 
turned  home  weary  and  sad.  The  dark 
night  came,  but  no  kind  father  returned. 
And  in  the  morning  there  was  no  merry 
song  in  the  old  tree,  for  the  father  was 
gone  and  the  mother  was  silent.  But  she 
used  to  fly  about  in  the  orchard  picking 
up  food  for  her  little  ones  as  well  as  she 
was  able. 

While  she  was  thus  flying  about  one 
day,  the  same  man,  with  the  gun  on  his 
shoulder,  came  spying  about  the  old  or 
chard,  for  he  had  said  that  it  was  an 
excellent  place  to  shoot  birds.  Pretty 
soon  he  saw  the  poor  mother  picking 
worms  from  a  mossy  rail,  and  pointed  his 
gun  at  her.  The  shot  struck  her  wing 


THE  NEST  IN  THE  ORCHARD,     117 

and  went  into  her  side  ;  but  still  she  was 
not  killed ;  and  all  bleeding  as  she  was, 
she  thought  she  would  try  to  get  home 
to  her  little  ones  once  more.  When  she 
came  to  the  old  apple  tree,  her  little 
strength  was  quite  spent  —  her  feathers 
were  dripping  with  blood ;  and  when  she 
had  put  the  food  she  had  gathered  into 
their  mouths,  she  fell  down  at  the  foot 
of  the  tree.  She  fluttered  a  few  mo 
ments,  and  then  her  soft  little  eyes  closed, 
and  the  poor  mother  bird  was  dead. 

A  great  while  after,  when  the  old  apple 
tree  was  loaded  with  bright  yellow  apples, 
the  farmer's  men  mowed  the  grass  under 
the  tree,  and  one  of  the  boys  thought  he 
would  go  up  and  shake  off  some  apples. 
While  he  was  climbing,  he  put  his  hand 
into  the  hole  and  found  our  bird's  nest. 

He  drew  it  out,  and  there  were  five 
little  dead  birds  in  it !  So  much  for  shoot 
ing  little  birds ! 


— 

2&L 

RECTDJ-D 

1965 


___— INJiRHBRARY 


9- 


,D  2lA-60rn-4,'64 
(E4555slO)476B 


Berkeley 


U.  C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


CDSSESS533 


